


Ryan The Vagabond Guy

by samlover14



Series: Ryan the Vagabond Guy [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Complex backstory, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Past Rayvin, Recreational Drug Use, Trans Jack, also some confusion and angst as you can imagine, but also they're ex-boyfriends so, definitely more cute and funny than anything else, fluff and cuteness, geoff is a total dad, if that bothers you here's your warning, past turnwood, ray and gavin are both adopted by geoff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 169,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9464465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samlover14/pseuds/samlover14
Summary: Ray has a boner for the Vagabond.  So what if he’s a masked lunatic who murders for fun?  That shit’s hot.  But somehow Ryan the IT Guy finds his way into Ray’s life and he’s never found such a dad so attractive before.*Essentially, no one knows who the Vagabond really is, despite him being with the crew for a year.  Well, some people know.  Or do they?  Or do they think they know?  Ray sure af doesn’t know.  The mystery is part of the attraction.*That being said, Ray meets a mild mannered IT Guy named Ryan and definitely doesn’t consider the possibility that this completely normal dad-looking fellow could be the guy under the mask.(Raywood, Immortal FAHC)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Welcome. This is actually the first raywood i ever started writing but it's long and convoluted and you know how that is. Anyway, warning again for the fact that ray and gavin refer to each other as brothers but were boyfriends in the past (and are not related at all, even a little bit). So if that makes you upset, please heed that I have warned.

“Seriously?  He never takes off the mask, dude,” Michael said.

 

“What, you’re not into that?” Ray asked.

 

“And he never talks!” Michael continued.

 

“I could make him talk,” Ray said, determinedly.  Michael rolled his eyes.

 

“The Vagabond is a stone cold killer,” Michael continued.  “He can rip you apart with his bare hands and feel no remorse.”

 

“And that doesn’t turn you on?” Ray asked.  Michael snorted.  The second in command of the fake AH crew was only two years older than Ray, but he always seemed like he had at least as much experience as Geoff did, and Geoff was nearly twice their age.  Michael and Ray had never been the best of buds, but he’d made an attempt at asking Ray what he was thinking about, because Ray had been standing in front of the fridge staring into it with the door open for five minutes, and Ray had decided to just tell him instead of making something up.  Sometimes Michael treated him like a kid and sometimes Michael treated him with the same Laddish respect he treated Gavin, and Ray never knew which it was going be until he opened his mouth.  This time, it was a mistake.  “Isn’t that why you fuck with Lindsay?  The fucking Red Queen?  She wouldn’t have to use her hands to fuck your shit up.  Griffon looks like a sweet lady, but I’ve seen her threaten to shove a chainsaw up Geoff’s ass when she was angry, and even Geoff was scared of her.  Gavin has Meg, and I’m guessing since she’s the only one of us who really knows Vagabond, she’s scary as shit.  We think we run Los Santos, the fake AH crew or whatever, but we are so wrong.  You think Vagabond is the most terrifying thing on the streets?  He has your back.  You fuck up with Lindsay and she’ll find a way to kill you so you don’t come back.  Admit it, it turns you on.”

 

“I didn’t decide one day I was going to start fucking the Red Queen of Los Santos,” Michael said, voice dangerous.  “And Lindsay is not a masked criminal with a fetish for knives.”

 

“Look around, we’re all masked criminals with a knife fetish,” Ray almost shouted, spreading his arms wide and backing out of the kitchen so he could watch Michael’s face get angrier.  He’d poked the dragon, he’d made Mogar the Unstoppable Warrior angry, and that was never a good plan, but he’d deal with that later.

 

Ray wasn’t concerned about pissing off Michael or Lindsay or the goddamn Vagabond.  He was DTF and Vagabond had that incredibly sexy mysterious thing going on, like Spiderman,  but instead of the dorky savior of NYC, he was the powerful murderous Mad King of Los Santos.  Sure, Vagabond was a psychopath, but Ray had watched him through the scope of his sniper rifle when he thought no one was watching, and he very often did strange out of character things like stop to pet dogs, and stray cats, and one ludicrous time, Ray had watched him chase a butterfly down the street.  And anyone who could maniacally murder one moment and cuddle with a small animal the next probably wouldn’t kill Ray without a second thought, but was definitely someone Ray was into.

 

Michael had a point, though.  The Vagabond rarely spoke, except to Geoff and Meg.  Sometimes he’d make a grunt or other noise so they knew he was in position and the com system was working, but the main sound they heard from under his mask was the laughter.  And his laughs were different.  Ray had carefully deconstructed each one.  The one heard most often was the maniacal laughter of a psychopath murdering everyone within a city block of himself, as citizens tried to flee from him, usually in vain.  But he had other laughs.  He’d chuckle at a joke thrown across a conference room before a heist, unless it was really funny, and then he’d let out laughs closer to his murder laughs, but somehow softer.  He’d only twice sat down to play video games with Ray and Gavin (Meg between them, making Ray feel even more alone than usual), and he’d laughed his way through MarioKart.  It was an easy, lighthearted laughter that made Ray smile.  He also had a laugh that Ray was almost positive he’d been the only one to hear it.  When he’d first joined their crew, Ray had tried to introduce himself, but instead turned into a stuttering mess.  Vagabond had laughed fondly, tousling his hair, and walked by him, and that had been the end of that.

 

Michael’s other point was valid too.  Vagabond murdered for fun.  Pleasure, even.  But hey, since when were they opposed to that?

 

Ray tried to push Vagabond out of his head, because he had more important things to be doing currently, and neither the Mad King nor Ray’s apparent crush were going anywhere.

 

Ray had gotten a text from Geoff that said ‘get my laptop fixed’ (along with a few curse words, but that was the gist), and he really had to do it, because Geoff was the boss, and also Ray was required to spend 12 hours a week outside the penthouse at Jack’s request.  There was a computer repair shop that Ray had seen a few times from his sniper perch, so he shoved Geoff’s laptop into his backpack and slung his backpack over his shoulder, then headed across town.

 

The shop was small and ‘Ryan the IT Guy’ was plastered above the window.  ‘By appointment only’ were the hours on the door.  Ray sighed and texted the number on the door, because who could be bothered to call?

 

_Is this Ryan the IT guy?  I need a laptop fixed._

_Yeah!  What’s wrong with it?_

_Dude I literally have no idea.  I’m outside your shop._

_Oh.  I’ll be right there._

 

Ray sat and played Pokemon on his bright pink DS on the pavement with his back against the shop door while he waited for ‘Ryan the IT guy’ to show up, which he must have, through a back door, because about 15 minutes later, ‘Ryan the IT guy’ had opened the door to the shop, and Ray had toppled over, falling backwards onto the ground at Ryan the IT guy’s feet.  Ray stared up at him.  He had blond hair and bright blue eyes behind glasses.  He looked like a total Dad, but he was a hot dad.  Ray wondered how many kids he had, if he had a wife, if he knew how to cook, and, on the off chance he didn’t have a family (or maybe even if he did), if he wanted to fuck, because holy shit, Ray was apparently into Dads now.

 

“Hi,” Ray finally said.  The usually ready-for-anything, trigger-savvy sniper had definitely been taken off guard by the dork whose goddamn feet he was still lying at.  Ray scrambled to his feet and picked up his backpack.  “Uh, yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with it.  My – uh – friend asked me to bring it in.”

 

“Alright,” Ryan the IT guy said, eyeing Ray almost suspiciously.  Ray began to feel self-conscious – had Ryan the IT guy seen him on a roof with his pink sniper rifle?  Not likely unless Ryan the IT guy was somehow an immortal.  No one saw Ray in sniper mode and lived to tell the tale.  And Ray doubted that Ryan the IT guy would have seen him escaping from a heist on the back of Vagabond’s motorcycle, as they’d be going too fast for anyone to notice.  “Let’s take a look at the product.”  Ryan the IT guy rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.  It was easy to see he (apparently) loved fixing computers – he had the same look Michael usually got before he blew up a building, or the look that Ray imagined Vagabond had under the mask before he gleefully started mowing down cops.

 

“Uh, yeah…” Ray stuttered, now even more embarrassed than he’d been on the floor, because fucking Ryan the IT guy had short circuited his brain with this stupid Dad sweater and glasses.  He opened his backpack and pulled out Geoff’s laptop.  “Maybe he said it was a hard drive?  I don’t know…”  Ryan set the laptop on the counter and started trying to diagnose the problem.  He was silent as he worked besides the clicking of the keys and his own tongue.  “I’m Ray, by the way.”  Ryan looked up, his blue eyes really seemed to penetrate Ray, almost seemed to see right through him.  Ray hoped he hadn’t shivered too visibly under Ryan’s gaze.

 

“I’m Ryan,” he finally said, after what felt like an hour but was probably only three seconds of staring, and went back to looking at the computer. 

 

“That’s like Ray with a N,” Ray said, immediately wanting to punch himself in the face.  Why was he _so goddamn flustered_?  No one turned Ray Narvaez Jr. into a blushing schoolgirl, especially not Ryan the Dad Guy.

 

“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said, slightly sarcastically with a chuckle, not taking his eyes off the computer screen as it ran diagnostics.

 

“Cut me some slack, I don’t exactly meet a hot DILF every day,” Ray replied, regaining some of his usual composure slightly.  “I’m out of practice.”  _And you’re so different from the lunatic in the skull mask I wanted to fuck earlier._

 

“Well, it is the hard drive,” Ryan said, seeming to ignore Ray’s last comment, but looking up at him nonetheless.  “It’ll take about a week to get the part in, get it replaced, and transfer all the files.  Run you about 300 bucks.”

 

“Alright, whatever,” Ray shrugged.  Geoff didn’t care about money.  He was loaded, and when he needed more, he knew where to find it.

 

“Okay, I’ll text you,” Ryan the IT guy said.  “I’ve got your number.”

 

Ray zipped up his backpack and mumbled, “you could at least buy me dinner,” part of an unfinished thought about how usually people with his number ended up back at his place, and turned to leave the shop.

 

“Do you like pasta?” 

 

Ray turned back around to see Ryan the IT guy raising an eyebrow at him.  “What?”

 

“Pasta.  Spaghetti.  Penne.  Lasagna.  Rigatoni.  Macaroni.  Shells.  Bowties.  Do you like _pasta_?” Ryan asked again.

 

“Sure,” Ray responded, confused.

 

“There’s a decent Italian restaurant two blocks over,” Ryan said.  “Do you want to go to dinner?”

 

“You don’t have a wife and two kids and a closet full of sweater vests to go home to?” Ray asked, an attempt at humor.  Ryan chuckled softly.

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

\--

 

 

They were getting along almost too well.  Ray somehow wasn’t awkward, and how could he be, while Ryan looked at him like he was the most important and special thing in the universe?  Ryan was precious, and he sure as hell didn’t belong in Los Santos.  A nice guy like him?

 

“What’s a nice guy like you doing in Los Santos?” Ray asked him, finally, about halfway through their pasta.  “Crime-ridden city like this?  You’re a stand-up guy.”

 

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Ryan said.  Ray bit his lip, considering it, but he couldn’t tell this civilian his real story, and he didn’t have a fake one prepared.  “Didn’t think so.”

 

Ray’s story was complicated to say the least.  His father had never been around and his mother had OD’d when Ray was 12.  He’d fended for himself for a while, until Geoff had found him and taken him in.  Geoff Lazer Ramsey, the crime lord.  The unofficial ruler of Los Santos was not a ruthless killer, in fact, he was a pretty chill dude.  He treated Ray and his other adopted son, Gavin, like his own children. Griffon was absolutely cool as all hell too, and the four of them had been a weird little family.  Ray absolutely loved video games, and he was the best COD player on the planet, as least as far as he was concerned.  Geoff had asked Ray first what he thought about it, then bought him his very first real life sniper rifle, and taught him how to use it, how to clean it, how to take cover on rooftops so he wouldn’t get done in.  It was during one of those lessons Ray had confessed his biggest secret to Geoff, though he was not absolutely certain how it had happened, but Ray had survived his own death.  And not just once, but at least four times.  Ray had ended up crying, still so confused about it at just 16, but Geoff had comforted him and told him softly that while it wasn’t exactly ordinary, it wasn’t unheard of, and Ray wasn’t a freak.  He was special.

 

Jack showed up at some point, an old friend of Geoff’s from ‘way back’.  She moved into the penthouse with them, much more of a mother hen type than Griffon was, making them dinner, and making sure they didn’t stay up all night playing video games.  Ray joked and called her ‘mom’ on occasion, and Jack let him.

 

Ray had been 17 when Geoff finally let him come with him, Griffon, Jack, and Gavin on a job.  Gavin had gotten himself blown to smithereens in an explosion of a cop car, and Ray had had a brief moment of sheer panic, before Geoff’s voice was screaming at him to keep taking out the cops so the others could get out.  Ray’s heart almost stopped when Gavin walked into the penthouse a few hours later, yawning with a quiet, “Cheers, X-Ray,” as he shuffled to his bedroom.

 

Geoff explained to him that there were people in the world and especially Los Santos that somehow didn’t stay dead, that he wasn’t the only one, that the other four of them were also gifted with apparent immortality.  Geoff also told him that death should still be taken seriously, as they didn’t understand it, and it wasn’t worth it to be reckless.

 

Michael and Lindsay joined them about two years later.  Michael very quickly became Geoff’s second in command, outranking Jack and even Griffon easily, despite his short tenure with the crew.  Heists became more complex, Griffon retired from ‘active duty’ so to speak, and their crew had never been better.  The only thing they still really could have brought in was brute force.

 

That’s when Vagabond showed up out of nowhere.  He was a freelancer that Geoff and Michael had been keeping an eye on, in case he tried to make a move on the crew, which would have been stupid on his part, though Ray fully believed that if he wanted to, the Mad King could cut through them all (and he’d had a few fantasies about how it would happen, how Vagabond would take out Michael first, then Gavin, and methodically work his way through all of them until only Ray was left, then have his way with the Puerto Rican sniper, quickly disappearing into the night before the others respawned).  He’d made his move on Geoff and Michael while they were doing a job, and Ray had been ready to snipe the masked man when Geoff had called him off, instead offering him a place in their crew.

 

It had been shaky at first, but it seemed that the ruthless killer really did have their backs.  He’d saved Ray’s life more than once, and their heists went off without a hitch most of the time.  Michael especially seemed to have a problem with him, probably some kind of jealousy that he wasn’t the most dangerous member of the fake AH crew anymore.  Even Geoff had never seen Vagabond without his mask, but he was the only one he had conversations with (besides Meg, who’d inexplicably showed up when he did, but Ray didn’t have the stones to have a conversation with _her_ ).  The crew was unstoppable, figuratively and literally.  Every once in a while one of the crew would suffer a death, but they always came back to the penthouse later, greeted happily by the rest of their crew. 

 

Ray, as a sniper and generally out of the center of the action, was rarely killed, and had only had two deaths under his belt since he’d come to live with Geoff almost 10 years ago, and both had occurred before even Michael had joined the crew.  He was tied for least amount of deaths in the current tally with Vagabond, who hadn’t ever been killed, and Geoff had admitted he didn’t have proof that Vagabond was immortal like the rest of them.  Ray wasn’t really worried about him, he was clearly a big boy who could handle himself, but the thought of it made Ray focus on protecting him a little more than anyone else (besides Gavin, who could sometimes find his blundering British ass in a big muddle, were it not for Ray).

 

And Ray couldn’t tell Ryan any of that.  So he smiled, eating his dinner, thinking about what he’d like to do to him, given the chance.

 

“What do you do for fun, then?” Ray asked.  “Besides fixing computers and taking care of the wife, two kids, and closet full of sweater vests, that I’m still not convinced you don’t have.”  Ryan laughed, his blue eyes seeming to light up.

 

“Do I really look that old to you?” Ryan asked.

 

“Listen, old man, I don’t care how old you are, I’m sure your wife still finds you attractive,” Ray began another joke.

 

“I’m 30,” Ryan said, cutting off Ray’s joke.

 

“And I’m 21, but who’s counting?” Ray asked without missing a beat.  Ryan still didn’t stop looking at him like he was the most precious person he’d ever seen.  “I’m legal, so what?” 

 

At least, Ray _thought_ he was 21 – immortality fucked with your head, and he was sure Geoff had been older than 25 when he’d taken in Ray, though simple math landed him at that conclusion.   Geoff was 40 in Ray’s mind, always had been, and always would be.  Michael always seemed much older than just two years Ray’s senior.  He seemed nearly 30, with his experience.  Jack, again by simple math, wasn’t even 30 yet, but Ray could tell in her face she’d been around as much as Geoff.  The only one of them who seemed to be their own age was Gavin.  But maybe he was different.  They’d grown up together, X-Ray and Vav, the adopted children of the Ramsey family.

 

“It’s either the glasses or the beard,” Ryan mused, scratching his short and neat beard that was really hardly more than thick stubble as if by reflex.

 

“Mine or yours?” Ray asked, feeling his own face for stubble.  Ryan chuckled again, and Ray didn’t want him to stop.  Ryan took off his glasses and arched his eyebrows, questioning.  It did seem as if the Dad in front of him was younger without them, but only slightly.  He was still unarguably a Dad, and without the glasses, Ray could really see the lines on his face, like Ryan the Dad guy had seen some shit in his life.

 

“My wife used to say that,” Ryan continued as if nothing had happened, perching his glasses on top of his head.  “I wouldn’t wear them, but the command screen on the computer is starting to look very fuzzy without them.”

 

Ray didn’t know what to say.  Ryan was married after all?  Why had he asked him to dinner?  And furthermore, was he some kind of pervert?  Ray was never afraid to walk the streets of Los Santos, face buried in his phone or his DS.  He didn’t worry about getting jumped.  Geoff had taught him well, and he could usually stave off any threat.  A skinny, young Puerto Rican was an unsuspecting target for anyone, but he was packing heat, even here at the dinner table.  A small pistol was tucked into the back of his jeans, hidden underneath baggy clothes, and a knife in his pocket.  He knew it wasn’t a lot, but he knew how to use them both very well and wasn’t afraid to go for the kill.  But he’d never encountered a pervert before.  And it did scare him slightly, but he plowed through it, typical Ray.

 

“If you actually are married, with two kids, and a closet full of sweater vests,” Ray began, and Ryan chuckled.  It made Ray’s words falter for a second, but he continued bravely, “why did you ask me to dinner?”

 

“You’re too skinny,” Ryan said.  Either Ryan was trying to fatten him up before eating him, or he was being an even bigger Dad than Ray had originally thought.  Ray chose Dad, though he was still pretty sure he could take Ryan the cannibal guy.  Apparently fear had flickered across Ray’s face, because Ryan hastily continued, “Do you get enough to eat at home?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Ray stuttered.  “I don’t live on the street, Ryan.”  _Not anymore_.

 

“I didn’t figure you did, considering you didn’t blink at the cost of the computer repair,” Ryan soothed.  “I guess I would have been a good Dad, after all.”  But it made Ray think – he was never _hungry_ , really, but he ate more $1 fast food cheeseburgers than was really necessary.  Jack cooked when everyone was at the penthouse, but Ray had insisted he have his own space.  Geoff was hesitant at first to let his ward move out of the safety of the penthouse, but Ray had proved he could take care of himself.  Besides, Geoff had seen the rising tension between Ray and Michael, and agreed maybe it was better for Ray to have his own space.  And when Ray was at his apartment, the only things in his fridge were energy drinks, moldy leftovers, and expired products.  “And I – I’m not married anymore.”  Ray’s eyes snapped up.  Ryan the divorced guy was running a hand through his hair as if he didn’t know quite what else to say.  Neither did Ray.

 

“That’s… that’s too bad,” Ray said.  “No kids?”

 

“No kids,” Ryan verified.

 

“And the sweater vests?”

 

“Never owned one.”

 

“Do you own an Xbox?” Ryan asked.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ryan replied, confused suddenly.

 

“I’m going to invite myself over to play Call of Duty, because _some people_ get touchy if I just invite myself over to bang, and if you don’t own an Xbox and a copy of any COD game, then we’ll have to go to my place, and I suddenly don’t want you to know how little food is in my fridge,” Ray explained.  “You down or what?”  Ryan seemed to consider it.  Ray noticed Ryan’s eyes giving him a triple once over – a thrice over, if you will.  The hesitation.  Another hand pushed through his hair.  Ray was sure he was going to say no, he’d about finished preparing a ‘let down easy’ response when Ryan spoke.

 

“Black Ops or Modern Warfare?”

 

Ray grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to run on sentences, misused commas, and super convenient phone calls. I hope you're enjoying this? Shoutout to you if you're reading this. I really appreciate you. Jeremy's hair is referenced as green in this chapter, because it was when I wrote it, if that tells you anything about how long I've been working on this.

Ryan’s apartment was over his shop.  It was exactly as Ray would have imagined Ryan the IT Guy’s apartment.  A total geek zone.  And Ray loved it.  All the geek merchandise reminded Ray of his room in the penthouse.  He hadn’t taken most of his stuff when he’d moved out, not really expecting to be able to make it on his own, and really not trusting his apartment not to get broken into when he was at the penthouse, a safe house, on a job, or sitting on top of Mount Chiliad, playing his DS (because it was technically ‘outside’ enough to qualify as part of his ‘twelve hours outside’ requirement, but no one would ever bother him there, so he didn’t really mind it).  Ray had tried not to geek out too much, because he was still trying to get laid, but Ryan the geek guy didn’t seemed to mind.

 

But Ray didn’t get laid that night, and it was his own damn fault.  He’d gotten too curious for his own good.

 

“If you’re not married anymore, why didn’t you say ex-wife?” Ray asked.  “I don’t mind being some rebound from a messy divorce, I’m just wondering.”

 

“I’m not divorced,” Ryan said, voice low and almost too quiet for Ray to hear.  “She died.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Ray said automatically, though he sincerely was (but he was also sincerely bad at being empathetic).  He remembered how it had been when his mother died.

 

“Los Santos is overrun with crime, kid.  It’s hard to make an honest living.  Keep yourself safe out there,” Ryan said.  Ray snorted immediately at the ludicrousness of the statement, but then stopped.  Ray’s character on the screen was blown to bits.  Had Ryan’s wife been murdered?  By one of the FAHC?

 

“I’ll be fine,” Ray stuttered out.  “Was your wife murdered?  I’m – I’m so sorry, Rye–”

 

“Yes,” Ryan said, voice still quiet.  “Don’t get so worked up, kid.  You didn’t kill her.”  Ray looked up at him.  He was emotionless as he kept playing.  “The Vagabond did.”  Ray’s heart stopped.  He couldn’t think.  “I’ve made my peace with it.”  Ray managed to get out the one question on his brain without being too suspicious.

 

“You don’t want revenge?” 

 

Ryan let out a low, hollow laugh, and though there were no words, Ray thoroughly agreed with the sentiment.  The Vagabond was not the guy you got revenge from.  Ray had a million more questions, but swallowed them all, finally turning his attention back to his character, and resuming play just seconds before the end of the game.  Ray ignored the TV screen, still staring dumbly at Ryan the … murdered wife guy?   The most dangerous man in Los Santos, who just so happened to be a member of Ray’s crew, a member that Ray wanted to be fucked into oblivion by, had murdered Ryan the IT guy’s wife.  Ryan the IT guy, who Ray just so happened to have been hitting on all evening. 

 

“Dude, I’m sorry for hitting on you, you’ve got serious issues,” Ray said.  “Do you want to play another round, or do you just want me out of your hair?”

 

“I like having you here,” Ryan said, turning to look at Ray for the first time in minutes, and seeing his expression.  “Ray, come on, it’s like I said.  It was years ago.  I’ve made my peace with it.”

 

“So why not leave Los Santos?  You can repair computers anywhere in the world, why do it in the one place where your customer is statistically four times as likely to be a criminal than an innocent civilian?” Ray asked.

 

“Are you a criminal, Ray?” Ryan asked.

 

“You don’t know me, I could be,” Ray said.  Ryan reached behind Ray and tugged the pistol from his pants lightly.  “I’m not about to get jumped wandering the city alone.”

 

“Do you trust me?” Ryan asked, and even though Ray felt like the answer to that question should be unequivocally _no_ , he nodded, breathless.  Ryan slowly unloaded the small gun, letting the clip clatter to the floor, then dropped the gun after it.  He moved his hands up Ray’s thighs to his hips to make sure he wasn’t otherwise armed, feeling Ray’s knife and phone in his pockets, but deciding to leave them, before leaning in slowly, blue eyes never leaving Ray’s dark brown ones, until their lips met.

 

Ray responded almost instantly, trying to get Ryan closer to him, but Ryan didn’t budge, and Ray reevaluated his thought that maybe he couldn’t take Ryan the kissing guy, especially after he’d disarmed him so quickly.  Ryan was solid, pure muscle, and Ray hadn’t been expecting that.  Now that he did know, he suddenly wanted to run his tongue over every muscle Ryan had, and cover the man in hickeys.  The thought made him moan into Ryan the muscle guy’s mouth, and Ryan responded by deepening the kiss, licking along Ray’s bottom lip and into his mouth.

 

Suddenly Ray felt vibrations on his thigh and jumped – his phone was vibrating in his pocket.  Ryan backed off as Ray dug for it.

 

“Shit, Geoff, what is it?” Ray swore as he answered the phone.

 

“Where are you?  You’re not at the penthouse and you’re not at your apartment, are you okay?” Geoff shouted.

 

“I went to get your fucking laptop fixed, Christ, I’m an adult,” Ray replied.  “Why does it matter?”

 

“Michael told me you two had another fight earlier,” Geoff said.

 

“Michael can suck a _cock_ ,” Ray replied, not keen on discussing the subject matter of the fight with Geoff, and especially not in front of Ryan the IT guy.  “You’re not my real dad, Geoff.”  Ray realized what he said, and tried to backpedal.  “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Listen up, cocksucker, I care about you like you were my own son, I don’t care what you do on your own time, but I want to know that you’re safe!”

 

“I’m fine, I’m safe, I was trying to get laid, but I’m pretty sure you ruined it,” Ray said.

 

“Shit Ray, I’m sorry,” Geoff said in a rare moment of apology.  “I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?  Be safe.  Remember what I told you about proper–”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ray muttered, hanging up on Geoff’s concerned voice now giving him dating advice through the phone.  Ray looked up at Ryan.  “Sorry, man.  It’s been great, but _Dad_ wants me home.”  He rolled his eyes.  It wasn’t entirely true, Geoff hadn’t told him to come home, but Ray wasn’t really in the mood anymore.  “Text me if you ever think you want a round 2, and I’ll make sure the asshole doesn’t call.”

 

“I will,” Ryan said.  Ryan had reloaded Ray’s gun while he was on the phone and he now handed it back to Ray. Ray looked at it, impressed, and shoved it back into his pants.  “Stay safe out there, kid.”

 

“Aw, Rye, who am I gonna be scared of?” Ray tried to joke.  He pressed a lingering kiss to Ryan’s lower jaw (being shorter, it was more convenient than any other place), and left Ryan’s apartment.

 

It was a long walk back to the penthouse, but Ray didn’t really want to just steal a car in the middle of the peaceful night, and he couldn’t be fucked to call a cab, so walking it was.

 

When Ray finally arrived back at the Penthouse, only Lil J was still awake and on the couch playing video games.  Jeremy was Geoff’s newest adoptee, and he hadn’t done a major job with them yet.  Ray was pretty sure he was ‘like 12’ but he could have been anywhere from actually 12 to Ray’s own age.  Ray nodded at him as he walked by the couch.

 

“Is Meg here?” Ray asked quietly.

 

“Don’t think so,” Jeremy replied.

 

“Sweet,” Ray said, heading for Gavin’s room.  Ray liked Meg fine, but if she wasn’t there, then Gavin would be free.  (Gavin was, in fact, usually free.  Gavin Free!)  Ray slowly pushed the door of Gavin’s room open and snuck inside, kicking off his shoes as quietly as he could and shimming out of his jeans, setting his gun down on Gavin’s dresser.  Gavin opened his eyes and blinked at Ray in the low light of the city coming through the window.

 

“X-Ray?” Gavin mumbled sleepily.

 

“Can I cuddle with you like when we were kids?” Ray whispered.  Gavin nodded and held his blanket up so Ray could crawl in.  “Thanks Vav, you’re the best.”  Ray took off his glasses and set them aside before sliding in next to Gavin.

 

“Bad night?” Gavin asked.

 

“Shh,” Ray replied, putting a finger to Gavin’s lips and nuzzling his head into the crook of Gavin’s neck.  It was warm and safe there.  Sometimes he would cuddle with Geoff or Jack, but they would always ask questions afterwards, and Ray didn’t want to deal with that.  There was something about cuddling with his ‘brother’ that was grounding to Ray, and Gav always knew he was upset because those were the only circumstances under which they did this anymore.  Gavin never had a problem with it.  In fact, one time, Gavin had left a sleeping Meg in his own bed and gone to Ray’s room with him.  They were brothers, X-Ray and Vav, they’d grown up together.

 

In the morning, Ray woke up to Gavin rubbing soft circles into his back.  Ray smiled up at him, almost forgetting why he’d gone in there in the first place.

 

“Breakfast, assholes,” Geoff’s sleepy voice called into the room as he passed by.  Ray glared at nothing, and the boys hopped out of bed, as it was usually ‘something’ when Geoff was out of bed before noon.  Ray put his glasses back on, then haphazardly pulled his jeans back on, stuffing his gun back into his pants as he did.

 

“Did Michael tell you we fought again?” Ray asked quietly.  Gavin nodded, pulling his own clothes on.  “Did he tell you why?”

 

“The usual,” Gavin replied.  Ray rolled his eyes, running two hands through his hair.

 

“Then I went out last night on a date, and almost fucked a straight-up _Dad_ , until I found out the Vagabond killed his wife,” Ray said.  “I can’t come back from that, man.  My game is not that strong.”

 

“Oh, X-Ray,” Gavin chuckled, tousling Ray’s hair, causing Ray to try to fix it once again.  “Vagabond’s murdered a lot of people.  He’s murdered _me_.  I don’t take it personally.”

 

“He did that to prove you were innocent after you lost your mask,” Ray replied.  “And I think a lot of us would murder you daily if we didn’t think Geoff would ground us.  You come back.  Other people _don’t_.”

 

“He’s never killed you,” Gavin pointed out.  “I think he’s got a soft spot for you if you ask me.  I can ask Turney what she thinks–”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Ray hissed.  “You think I want the whole crew to know?  You think I want _him_ to know?”

 

“It’s bloody obvious,” Gavin began.  Ray rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen, taking the plate of food Jack handed him.  It was a routine that Ray had done hundreds if not thousands of times.

 

“I’ll be in my room,” Ray said, leaving the kitchen with his breakfast, and taking the fork Jack held in her other hand for him.

 

“Geoff wants everyone in the conference room in 20 minutes,” Jack called.

 

“Plenty of time to beat one out,” Ray joked by reflex, but he wasn’t feeling it.  He wasn’t really feeling breakfast either, but he ate it angrily, glaring at it like his breakfast had been the one to kill Ryan’s wife.

 

Ray’s room at the penthouse really was _home_ , and his apartment was really like _a place where I go sometimes when I want to starve to death by myself while playing video games uninterrupted by human company for 36 hours straight_.  Also, sometimes he really needed to be more than a wall away from Geoff or Jack (and especially Michael).

 

Ray knew why he didn’t like Michael.  It was because Michael didn’t like him, but he honestly didn’t know why Michael hated him so much.  They’d never gotten along, not for a second.  When Michael had shown up out of seemingly nowhere, (though Jack admitted she’d basically recruited him), he knew everything there was to know about everything and didn’t have time for ‘kids’ like Ray (though he had no problem with Gavin following him around like a puppy, though that may have had something to do with the fact that Michael had yelled at Gavin to knock it off for several weeks and Gavin just _didn’t_ , so Michael finally permitted it, or maybe it was because Gavin was with Meg, and Meg and Lindsay had become best friends….  Ray didn’t know).   Every time Ray remembered Michael’s words  (“who’s this kid?” Michael had sneered, looking at Ray, “he’s not much of a sniper,”), Ray had half a mind to put a bullet right between Michael’s eyes, but he didn’t want to deal with the retaliation.  Geoff he could handle, but it was likely to start a bitter feud and crack the FAHC right down the middle – and Ray knew his side would be smaller, on the offchance that anyone would stand by him at all.  Maybe Vagabond would, he didn’t get along with Michael either, usually.

 

It was still so unbelievable to him that Ryan the IT guy’s wife had been murdered by the Vagabond, and that Ryan spoke about it like it wasn’t a big deal.  Sure, it was “years ago” and he’d “made his peace with it”, but Ray, a weathered member of the most dangerous gang in Los Santos, still couldn’t wrap his head around it.  Killing the innocent was Vagabond’s forte, not his.  Ray wished they could have another job, just so he could focus on anything but the ghost of Ryan the IT guy’s lips on his.

 

“Hey, dickhead,” Geoff said by way of greeting, knocking softly before walking into Ray’s room.  “You’re not jerking off are you?  Good.”  Ray had eaten all of the breakfast he was probably going to, about two-thirds of the plate.  Jack had taken to giving him extra food to try to persuade him to eat it, which worked on occasion.

 

“What’s up, Geoff?” Ray asked, sighing.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry I ruined your date last night,” Geoff said, sitting beside Ray on the bed.  “It’s good for you to get out and meet people and do things.  I’ll make it up to you, buddy.”

 

“It’s whatever,” Ray shrugged.

 

“No, really.  Was he cute, at least?” Geoff asked.

 

“He’s not my usual type, but yeah,” Ray responded.

 

“Not your usual type?” Geoff asked.

 

“He’s a straight-up fuckin Dad,” Ray said.  “You know the type?”

 

“I have been told that I’m a Dad,” Geoff said, trying to stay hip with the kids, and failing miserably.

 

“Yeah, but you’re an actual hot Dad, and I’m sure Griffon agrees with me,” Ray said.  “It wasn’t going well anyway before you called, don’t sweat it, Geoff.”

 

“What has to be wrong with a guy for him not to like you?” Geoff asked.

 

“Nothing’s wrong with him, he’s perfect,” Ray said.  “His TV is almost as big as ours, and he’s cute, and funny, he’s just…”  Ray wasn’t really sure what Ryan the perfect guy was or wasn’t just.  He’d began the sentence with no ending planned, but Geoff seemed to understand, nodding.

 

“So Michael says you’re hot for Vagabond,” Geoff said.  Ray immediately started sputtering, trying to deflect it.  “C’mon, Ray, he’s been here for over a year now, do you think I haven’t seen you looking at him?”

 

“I’ve seen him chase butterflies down the street,” Ray said.  “There has to be more to him than stone-cold killer.”

 

“I know,” Geoff agreed.  “That’s why I hired him.  Because he’s like us.  He belongs here.  He has a story.  And he chooses to hide his under a creepy skull mask.  Not my business.  It’s a decent shtick.  Famous serial killer, goes unnoticed in the streets, even by his own crew.  Wish I’d thought of it.”

 

“That’s some Hannah Montana shit,” Ray replied.

 

“Did you get my laptop fixed?” Geoff asked, looking around the room like Ray was hiding it from him.

 

“Yeah, it’s gonna take like a week, man,” Ray said.

 

“A WEEK?” Geoff screamed.  “I need my laptop!”

 

“Don’t look at me!  You just said get it fixed, you didn’t give me a time frame!” Ray replied.  Geoff grumbled all the way to the conference room.  Most of the crew were already there.

 

“What now?” Jack asked.

 

“A week to get my damn laptop fixed, what kind of bullshit,” Geoff lamented.

 

“You should get the new Macbook Pro,” Jack suggested.  A snort from across the room, like the statement had been intended as a joke.  It was Vagabond.  He was in his usual t-shirt under a leather jacket, jeans, boots, skull mask, leaning on the wall in the corner.  Jack sent him a funny look but continued speaking to Geoff.

 

Ray sat in the chair next to Gavin.  Gavin smiled at him, their argument from the morning forgotten.

 

“What are we meeting about?” Ray whispered to him.  “Lil J can’t be getting promoted yet, can he?”

 

“Nah,” Gavin replied.  “The same bollocking teamwork bull.”  Ray groaned.  He just wanted it to be over so he could go sit in the darkness of his bedroom and play Pokemon.

 

“Alright, alright, settle down, assholes,” Geoff addressed the conference room.  It was the six of the regular crew and Lindsay.  “As you know, we’ve been doing this teamwork exercise where we take turns planning jobs, and also because I’m pretty much out of ideas.”  Planning heists had been an honor, descending the ranks of the crew.  After Geoff had been Michael, the second in command, then Vagabond had planned one with an articulate power point presentation.  Griffon had comeback from retirement and stood in for Michael that one time (Michael and Lindsay had been on their honeymoon), creating a heist for them as well.  After Griffon had been Jack, then Gavin (which had ended horribly for everyone but Ray and Vagabond, who’d escaped, as usual, on his motorcycle), which meant Ray was technically next, as far as rank went.  He’d always been right after Gavin, but he hadn’t even really begun to put a heist together.  He had some ideas, sure, but…  “My lady, I believe you’re next?”  Geoff deferred the floor to Lindsay and Ray stared.  Since when was she an active member of the crew, and since _when_ did she outrank him?  Ray had been here for years longer than the Red Queen, title or not. 

 

Lindsay started to blather on about who would do what in the heist, and what they were going to be doing, complete with a map of the city, as was the norm.  Geoff must have hundreds of those maps stashed in the conference room.

 

“And as we all know, our heists are designed for six people,” Lindsay had said, turning around from the map.  Ray’s heart started beating fast.  He was the lowest rank in the room, and the only one who hadn’t been given a job yet.  He didn’t even have to hear the end of the sentence before he was storming out of the conference room.  He picked up his backpack from where he’d left it in Gavin’s room, and left the penthouse.  Of course Lindsay would cut him from her heist.  She was Michael’s wife, the goddamn _Red Queen_ of Los Santos.  She and Mogar the Unstoppable Warrior were the city’s newest power couple.  When Geoff and Griffon had been younger, it had been those two, but it was time for some ‘younger homies’ (Michael’s words, believe it or not) to take the crown.

 

Ray didn’t go to his own apartment, he went to the roof of the penthouse.  It was quiet, and hardly anyone ever thought to look for him there.  But when Ray got up there, he saw there was already someone up there.  Someone with green hair and a DS to match.

 

“Hey Lil J,” Ray said, sitting down near him, and pulling his own DS out of his backpack.

 

“Done heisting already?” Jeremy asked.  Ray shook his head.  “Sucks to be left out.”

 

“Yeah,” Ray agreed.  “Lindsay’s heist.”  He spat the words out like poison.

 

“Lindsay outranks you?” Jeremy asked.  Ray shrugged.

 

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you outranked me at this point,” Ray said.  Jeremy didn’t reply to that, and they sat on the roof playing their games in relative silence.  About 20 minutes passed and then Geoff stumped up the stairs.

 

“Okay, boys, you can stop moping,” Geoff said.  “Ray, I know you’re bummed about missing the action, but this heist is dicey.”

 

“You can’t kill me, Geoff, there is no risk to me being there!” Ray finally snapped.  “Stop treating me like I could break just because I’m young.”

 

“This heist is pretty dicey, so I’m bringing the two of you in for backup,” Geoff finished.  Ray and Jeremy just stared, dumbfounded.  “Ray, we’ve got a sniper’s perch for you.  Lil J, I have your briefing material downstairs, we can go through it this afternoon.  Welcome to the crew, bud.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Ramsey,” Jeremy replied in surprise.  Ray frowned at him.  Mr. Ramsey?  What?  But Geoff took the little guy under his arm and they retreated downstairs.

 

“Tomorrow, 12:30!” Geoff called back up to Ray.

 

Nice™.  Ray had 26 hours to do nothing.  Sounded like a good time to work on perfecting another game, achievement-wise.  He pulled his phone out to check the time, and he had a text he’d missed.

 

_Do you know how to take apart a laptop?_   It was Ryan the IT guy.

 

_Shouldn’t you know?_   Ray replied.

 

_I do know, I’m asking if you want to learn and maybe get lunch after?_

_Yeah.  Sure._

Another date with Ryan the IT guy.  Ray didn’t know what this guy actually saw in him.  Ray didn’t have a lot to offer, honestly.  A poor kid, caught up in a fearsome and dangerous gang with the likes of Mogar and the Mad King?  Add in the social apathy and he was definitely the last person on anyone’s party list.  Ray lingered on pervert for a moment before he remembered that if Ryan had been a pervert, he could had had his way with Ray last night (not that Ray would have done much complaining).

 

Ray wandered across town on foot, eventually getting to Ryan the IT guy’s shop, and walked in.  A soft bell chimed and there was Ryan the IT guy himself, in jeans and a t-shirt, glasses on his face, screwdriver-deep into a CPU.

 

“You know, hours like ‘by appointment only’ really scream busy work environment,” Ray said, leaning on the counter.  Ryan chuckled.

 

“It’s a second job and a hobby,” Ryan said.  “Pick up some decent cash on the side.”

 

“On the side of what?” Ray pressed but Ryan just laughed.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ryan said with a smirk.

 

“Yeah, I would, that’s why I asked,” Ray replied.

 

“What do you do, Ray?  How do you keep food on the table?” Ryan asked.

 

“I usually blow dudes for meals,” Ray said nonchalantly.  Ryan choked on his own breath and let out a small cough.  “Gotcha.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan said, unable to contain his grin.

 

“Fuckin GOT EM,” Ray said loudly.  Ryan stood up from the CPU, putting the screwdriver down on the table.  “Dude, why are you looking at me like you want to bang me on this counter?  I’m not opposed, but you’re supposed to be the responsi–”  Ryan’s lips collided with Ray’s and it was even better than the night before because it was desperate and full of everything they hadn’t gotten to last night. 

 

Ray had just thrown his arms around Ryan’s neck and practically keened when a soft rock song started – Ryan’s phone.  Ryan positively snarled as Ray let go of him, and he snatched his phone off the counter.  He rolled his eyes when he saw who it was and took a deep breath to calm himself.

 

“Hey.”  “No.  No.  Yeah, I’m at the shop.  I have work to do.”  “I don’t know, fixin shit.”  A deep sigh.  “No, I really _don’t care_ what you do on your own time.”  “Ray and I will probably get something in a bit.”  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m hanging up on you.”  Ryan turned back around to look at Ray, and at least had the decency to look sheepish.  “Hi.”

 

“Who was that?” Ray said teasingly.

 

“None of your business, young one.  I promised to teach you how to take apart a laptop, and as a bonus, I’ll throw in how to put it back together for free,” Ryan said.

 

“You’re going to have to answer a question eventually,” Ray said, but smiling as Ryan turned Geoff’s laptop over and picked up his screwdriver.

 

“Maybe, but my natural charm has to wear off first,” Ryan said.  “So the first thing you do is take all the screws out and try not to forget which size went where…”

 

They ended up getting takeout burgers for lunch, both laughingly refusing to answer the other’s questions as they ate at the kitchen table in Ryan’s apartment.  Gavin was blowing up Ray’s texts, but Ray was seriously trying to ignore him.

 

“You’re ignoring someone awfully hard,” Ryan said as Ray rolled his eyes and locked his phone for the eighth time.

 

“It’s just fucking Gavin,” Ray said.  He mocked Gavin’s accent.  “Have you seen my girlfriend, X-Ray?  I haven’t lost her, I just want you to know she’s smoking and you’ve got none.  Thanks, Gav.  Also fuck off.”  Ryan huffed out a laugh.

 

“Friends can be like that,” Ryan said.

 

“Well, guess what, Gav, Ryan the Dad guy is wearing a t-shirt today so he looks even hotter than he did in the dad sweater,” Ray said.  “Jokes on Gav.  GOT EM!”  


“Are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” Ryan the concerned guy observed.

 

“Yeah,” Ray shrugged.  “They’re still clean. Ish.”

 

“Do you have a laundry room at your apartment?” Ryan asked.

 

“Nah,” Ray said.  There was a washer and dryer at the penthouse, but most of Ray’s dirty laundry was at his apartment, and no way was he hauling it across town without a vehicle.  Ryan’s comments fizzled out, but he seemed to want to say more.  “Don’t worry about me, dude, I get by.”

 

“Is it wrong to want to make sure someone is loved and taken care of but also to want to make out with them until their lips are chapped?” Ryan asked.

 

“I think that’s what marriage is,” Ray said, nodding.  “You’ve been married.  You know what it’s like.”

 

“It wasn’t like that,” Ryan said.  “We were probably better off before we got married actually.”

 

“It’s not your fault she got murdered by a psycho in a skull mask,” Ray said, but wished he hadn’t as he immediately realized how little tact he had.  But Ryan chuckled darkly without comment, which actually scared Ray a little, so he tried to say anything to change the subject off the Vagabond.  “What was she like?”

 

“She was great,” Ryan said.  “Young.  Hot.  Glasses.  The cutest face.  Funny.  Pretty good at video games.”

 

“Sounds pretty generic,” Ray said.

 

“Well I guess I have a type then,” Ryan teased.  Ray felt his face heat up.

 

“Was she Puerto Rican?” Ray asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Wow, loser,” Ray snorted.  “Downgrading to a Puerto Rican.”

 

“You’re only making me want to kiss you more,” Ryan said.

 

“Well the jokes on you, because my lips are already chapped,” Ray said.  “HaHA! You’ve fallen for my trap card.”  Ray’s phone buzzed again, another text from Gavin.  Ray immediately just went to lock it when the content caught his attention.

 

_Meg knew the Vagabond before he went insane.  You should talk to her._

 

Ray shot back a simple _fuck off_ , but lingered on the thought.

 

“Is it important?” Ryan asked, indicating Ray’s phone.

 

“No, it’s just Gav, sorry,” Ray said, snapping out of it and putting his phone face down on the table.

 

If Meg had known the Vagabond before he went insane, then why was she still friends with him?  What would possess a person as sweet as Meg to become the Vagabond’s partner, essentially, at least his partner in crime?  She was a famous hacker, and she had told stories to Gavin (and Gavin had recounted them to Ray) about how she’d hack into a database so the Vagabond could do a job, or take down an entire infrastructure singlehandedly. 

 

“Are you done eating?  I have an obsessive need to kiss you into my couch,” Ryan said.

 

“When you put it like that…” Ray smiled. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter to prevent a monster chapter. :\ Anyway... This is where the bombs start dropping. Also! This chapter references Michael as a Gent, that is purely his own ideology in this fic. Jack puts him back down in his Lads place eventually. (Michael (very similar to how gav is irl): im the second in command i have way more experience than these kids im married guys im definitely a gent fuck you Jack: step off you literal child)

Ray got back to the penthouse after dinner, and Gavin was squawking like a bird.

 

“X-Ray, X-Ray!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, thanks for not shutting up while I was on my date, I’m really starting to think no one in this crew wants me to be happy,” Ray said, ignoring him and walking to his bedroom.

 

“Turney and I were at lunch and you have to hear this–” Gavin began, but Ray slammed his bedroom door.  “Come on, X-Ray, this is important!”

 

“Go away!” Ray shouted.

 

“But… but… Vagabond’s first kill was _Meg_ ,” Gavin said loudly.  Ray opened the door immediately.

 

“ _What_?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah, come on, let me in,” Gavin said, trying to shoo Ray away from the door so he could come in.  Ray let him in, and Gavin jumped onto Ray’s bed. 

 

“Tell me everything,” Ray said, closing the door and locking it.

 

It took nearly an hour for Gavin to recount the story Meg had told him, which seemed to be doctored in places, but Ray got the gist:  Five years ago, Meg and the Vagabond had been romantically involved.  Their relationship wasn’t working out, they got into a fight, he snapped and killed her.  (‘Cuz he’s a psycho, isn’t he?’ Gavin added.)   He immediately realized what he’d done and killed himself as well.  But Vagabond was an immortal, and a powerful one at that, and he simply couldn’t die.  When Meg finally respawned, more powerful than ever before, she left him.   (‘Why did it take her so long to respawn?’ Ray asked.  ‘Lag,’ Gavin explained.)  Vagabond didn’t truly know what it meant to be an immortal, but he no longer cared about living, so he started living recklessly.  (‘Like an absolute psychopath,’ Gavin added.)  A few months later, Meg returned.  They got into a fight and she bested him, to his surprise.  Both knowing they couldn’t kill each other, they became allies, and pulled off a few jobs.  What’s a little more crime in Los Santos?  Vagabond somehow got a taste for murder, and became the ruthless killer he was known to be today.  (‘Scary, innit?’ Gavin said, wiggling his eyebrows.)

 

It was an intense story to say the least, and it sounded very strange coming from Gavin’s mouth.  Ray didn’t know how much of it he could actually trust, and he found he didn’t really care about the Vagabond, not when he had Ryan.

 

“Okay, but riddle me this, Golden Boy, if Meg and the Vagabond were a thing, how come he hasn’t shanked you for making a move on his girl?” Ray asked.

 

“They aren’t involved anymore, obviously, you big dope,” Gavin snorted.

 

“How the fuck old is Meg if she was fuckin with the Vagabond _five years ago_?” Ray asked.  “We weren’t even allowed on heists five years ago.”

 

“You weren’t,” Gavin snipped.  “Geoff’s let me heist since before he even bought you your sniper rifle.”  Ray swore under his breath.

 

“Right, so I’m just the little kid around here,” Ray said.  “And now I have to babysit Lil J too.”

 

“X-Ray,” Gavin whined, pouting a little too.

 

“Gav, can I just be alone for a little bit?” Ray asked.  Gavin nodded and left the room, leaving the door ajar, but Ray was too frustrated to get up and close it.  He sat, fuming, about how everyone thought he was a little kid, for several minutes, until he was interrupted by a knock on the door.  “What?”

 

“Um…hey.”   It was Michael, of all people.  “Can I come in?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“I just wanted you to know that Geoff really went to the mat for you today,” Michael told him, taking a few steps into the room.  Ray stared at him.  What?  “I know that you and I have never gotten along, and I guess I sort of ignored you for a while, because I didn’t even notice that our heists are almost five times as successful when you’re on sniper duty.  And, dude, you haven’t been killed once since I’ve been here.  That’s impressive as fuck, man.  I asked Geoff if I could be the one to tell you.  You’re up next, so start thinking of ideas, kid – I mean… Ray.  You’re an amazing sniper.  I know you’ll have our backs tomorrow.”

 

“I sometimes have fantasies about shooting you right between the eyes just to prove to you that I’m a good sniper,” Ray admitted.

 

“Hey, I get that,” Michael said.  “I like to think of ways I can prove to Vagabond that I’m still better than him.  It’s a competitive thing, and it’ll happen within a crew as powerful as ours.  Maybe one of these days, Geoff will let us all go down to the track and we can have a good old-fashioned rumble, just to see which of us could be the last man standing.”

 

“I’ll put fifty cents on Vagabond, unless Griff’s going,” Ray said.  “I’d bet more but that’s all I have.”  Michael laughed.

 

“Gav told me you’ve got a boyfriend,” Michael said.

 

“I have a guy who I spent most of the afternoon making out with, but boyfriend is a bit of a stretch,” Ray corrected.

 

“It’s good for you,” Michael said.  “You’re cooped up in this room too much.”

 

“I am required to spend 12 hours a week outside,” Ray said.  “Jack makes me.”  Michael snickered.  “I’m totally serious.”

 

“I completely believe you, it’s just hilarious,” Michael said.  “Dude, we’ve spent way too much time hating each other.  Let’s be better friends, okay?”

 

“Team Better Friends,” Ray joked.  He and Michael pounded fists.

 

“Alright, well, Lindsay and I have preparations for tomorrow to get done, so… I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

 

“You know it,” Ray replied.  Michael was gone, and Ray felt like he’d hallucinated the entire interaction.  He lay back on his bed and almost immediately fell asleep.

 

*

 

“Dicey” was not the right word to describe this heist.  It was one of the most dangerous ones they’d ever done, and Lindsay had done a hell of a job getting it together.  Lil J and Ray were sat together on the roof of the building across the street from the bank in question, waiting for the signal, both choosing to fill this time with Pokemon. 

 

“What actually happens when one of them dies during a mission?” Jeremy asked.

 

“You leave them, try to save the rest, and hope their time hasn’t run out,” Ray said.  “Usually they respawn anywhere from a few minutes to three hours later.  Some people have faster respawn times than others.”

 

“What’s yours?” Jeremy asked.

 

“I’ve never timed it,” Ray said, saving his game and turning off his DS.  “Almost time, bud.” 

 

Geoff was in their ears, “Gents, in position?”  Affirmative sounds from Michael and Vagabond.  “Ladies?”  Jack and Lindsay also gave the okay.  “Lads?”  Gavin made a sound like a bird and Geoff could be heard sighing.

 

“All’s quiet on the roof, Geoff,” Ray replied.

 

“Okay, we’re going in,” Lindsay said.  “3…2…” 

 

Nothing happened on Ray’s end for several minutes, and then it seemed everything was happening at once.  More cops than they’d ever seen kept coming, and it was all Ray could do to keep them away from Geoff, Jack, and Lindsay – Michael and Gavin would have to fend for themselves, as they were in an inconvenient location around behind the bank where Ray couldn’t see at all – a poor choice in heist design. 

 

Gavin began making British noises so loudly Ray wanted to tear out his earpiece, but he couldn’t – and then Gavin went silent. 

 

“Gavin’s down!” Michael yelled.  “I can’t hold–”  Nothing more from Michael.

 

“Michael?!” Lindsay yelled, but no response came.  “Is everyone else still with us?”  Responses came from the rest of the crew except Vagabond.

 

“Come get us, Lil J!” Geoff screamed, and Lil J was parkouring from the roof he shared with Ray to one about a block down the street, where a helicopter was parked, ready for him to get them all out of there.

 

Geoff and Lindsay were taking cover behind the wreckage of a parked car right in front of the bank.  Jack was fifty feet away, also behind cover, and lobbing grenades at the cops.  It was anyone’s guess who had the money.  Ray couldn’t see Vagabond, didn’t hear the laughter of a psychopath as he mowed down police and immediately knew without seeing – Vagabond had had his first death with the FAHC.

 

No need to worry about that now, everyone would be happily respawned when Ray got home later.  He’d promised Ryan he’d stop by later (after “work”) to say hi and grab some dinner, maybe a few rounds of CoD.

 

It was staggering how quickly the whole thing fell apart without their muscle.  Without Michael and Vagabond, the rest of the crew were sitting ducks until Jeremy got there to fly them out.  Not that they couldn’t hold their own, but they hadn’t designed the job that way.  Jeremy finally showed up, carefully trying not to crash the helo into the street, and crushing a few cops as he did so.  Geoff sent Lindsay in first, then screamed for Jack to go next, as he gave them covering fire.  Jack scrambled towards the helo and jumped in the front with Lil J, and Geoff sprinted after her, getting in the back with Lindsay.  Ray took out a police helicopter that was headed in their direction easily.

 

“We’ll pick up Ray and head for the yacht,” Geoff shouted, loud and clear through their earpieces.

 

“You got it, boss,” Lil J said, as the helicopter took to the air again.

 

“I’m fine, Vagabond’s motorcycle is here, I’ll take it back,” Ray said.  “I don’t even have a wanted level right now.”

 

“Okay, kid, stay safe,” Geoff said, and they flew away.  A few remaining officers got back in whatever of their vehicles that were still running and attempted pursuit.  They would fail, they always did.  No one ever caught the FAHC.

 

Ray hopped down from the roof, not bothering to use the ladder, and mounted Vagabond’s motorcycle.  It felt weird to be riding it without the masked man himself, but it had to get back to the penthouse somehow, and he doubted the Mad King would mind too terribly if Ray made a pit stop to Ryan’s apartment first. 

 

It took Ray longer than usual to find the place, because he was coming from a different area, and traffic was being stupid (blame the police), but he finally parked the motorcycle around back of Ryan’s place and took the stairs two at a time, not even thinking twice about the pink sniper rifle he had slung over his shoulder.

 

“Honey, I’m home,” Ray joked as he entered the apartment.  It was dark, though it was still only late afternoon, and Ray flicked on some lights.  He immediately got serious when he noticed a trail of blood leading from the door into the bathroom.  “Ryan?” Ray called apprehensively.  He pulled his smaller pistol out of his jeans and started checking the house.  It was empty besides the bathroom, and Ray took a deep breath before kicking the door open and pointing his gun in.  “Ryan?!”  There was Ryan, looking not really alive, leaning on the toilet for support, appearing to have stopped halfway through bandaging himself.

 

“Ray?” Ryan croaked quietly.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“I said I would come over after work,” Ray said, immediately dropping his pistol, backpack, and sniper rifle to help fix Ryan up.  “What happened to you?”

 

“Shit happens,” Ryan shrugged.  “This is Los Santos.”

 

“Did you get shot?” Ray asked, helping Ryan apply pressure to his wounds so they would stop bleeding.

 

“Bullets are in the sink,” Ryan said.  He looked like he was fighting to stay conscious.  He’d pulled bullets out of his body by himself?  He went hard af.  Ray had thought only he did that shit (and Jack, of course, because she's totally metal.  Yes, metal, not mental.).  Even Geoff and Michael were big pussies when it came to removing bullets.

 

“Police slugs,” Ray said, sparing them a glance.  “Were you downtown this afternoon?”

 

“Maybe,” Ryan admitted.  Ray kissed him, just happy he was still alive, when the state of a few of his wounds caught Ray’s eye.  Ryan’s t-shirt was in tatters, covered in blood and littered with holes.  Ray ripped it off him to survey the full damage.  Ryan’s chest and stomach (and his back as well, Ray would have wagered, but he couldn’t see from this angle) were covered in old scars.  From what Ray could see, most appeared to be stab-wounds, though some were old bullet wounds.

 

“You’ve been around, Ryan,” Ray said, concerned more than anything.  “No way you’re not an immortal with that many scars.”

 

“This is not how I imagined this conversation,” Ryan said, teeth gritted in pain and he worked one last bullet out of his leg.  He relaxed, breathing hard, letting his head fall back against the porcelain.  The bullet in his hand wasn’t the same as the rest, and Ray recognized it immediately.  “Did you lose something?” Ryan attempted to joke.  It was a slug from Ray’s sniper rifle.  One of his rare stray bullets must have hit Ryan.

 

“Oh my God,” Ray said, in shock.  “I’m…”  Speechless.  He was speechless.  Ray, for the first time in his own memory, really didn’t have a joke that could possibly lighten the situation.

 

“Relax,” Ryan said, almost as if it didn’t matter.  “I’ll live.”

 

“So you are an immortal,” Ray said.  It felt strange to be practically interrogating a man who really looked like he was on his deathbed.

 

“As immortal as they come,” Ryan said.  “You too?”

 

“Yeah,” Ray nodded.  His eyes raked down Ryan’s chest and he said the one question on his mind.  “How did you get those scars?”

 

“Stab wounds,” Ryan said.  “Most of them were from me – well, from the Vagabond.”  Ray stared.  _What?_

 

“What?” Ray asked, confused.

 

“Shit, Ray, can we do this later?  I need to lie down if I have any chance of walking again this week,” Ryan said.  Ray, dumbfounded, helped Ryan to his feet, and then into his bedroom.  “If you’re not here when I wake up, I understand.”  Ray didn’t have time to construct a response, because Ryan had immediately passed out.

 

Ray went back to the bathroom, intending to only grab his belongings and get back to the penthouse – or maybe his own apartment.

 

_Most of them were from me – well, from the Vagabond_.

 

Had Ryan meant what Ray thought he meant?  Was Ryan the Vagabond?  Sure, Ray had never seen them in the same place at the same time, but why would he have?  He only met Ryan two days ago, and they didn’t exactly run in the same circles.

 

He tried to piece together bits of story as he scrubbed the blood off Ryan’s bathmat (and bathroom tile, and then started working on the trail that led all the way to the doorway).

 

If the story Gavin had told him the night before was true, then Meg had been Ryan’s wife, and he’d killed her?  She fit the description Ryan had given of his wife, but he had very clearly described her as dead, while Meg was definitely still alive. 

 

Ray had a million questions burning inside his mind, each of them seeming like the most important one, but none of them would be answered at all until Ryan woke up.  So Ray continued cleaning up the mess, washing the slugs and putting them in a bag with Ryan’s shirt and all the rags to be disposed of cleanly later. 

 

Ray pulled back the shower curtain and saw some things that made his stomach drop.  Yes, Ryan was either definitely the Vagabond or he’d bested him in a fistfight in the parking lot and stolen all his shit.  There, in the tub, were Vagabond’s skull mask, leather jacket, and knives, all blood-spattered, but probably haphazardly hidden on the offchance someone were to discover Ryan while he was incapacitated.  Ray cleaned those items up immediately.  Jack had taught him the best ways to remove blood.

 

Finally, all the cleaning was done, so Ray dusted himself off and went to sit on the couch and play Call of Duty until Ryan woke up.   Ray thought himself into an impressive rage while he played.

 

“Boom!  Headshot!” he told the TV loudly.  “Boom, headshot again!”

 

Ray rarely had the energy for rage.  That was Michael’s thing.  Ray was often so relaxed that the rest of the crew joked he had to be blazing, and he went along with it, though he’d never touched the stuff.  But this – this he was angry about.  Every question he had led itself to four more questions.

 

Ray had spent so long playing on the couch that the crew was back at the penthouse, and Geoff had texted him eight times asking if he was okay, all of which he’d ignored.  He continued playing, round after round, and suddenly his phone had 14 messages from Gavin, and Ray couldn’t be bothered to deal with him either.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for the heavy.... Ray absolutely loses his entire chill in this one. there's a lot of arguing here, but i mean, shouldn't Ray be angry? Protip: next time, maybe you should lead with 'psst Ray, its me, Vagabond...'
> 
> But you know... people fight, they make up, they make out... it's part of life (or so I'm told? Does that actually happen?)
> 
> thanks again to everyone who is reading this! you're the best

It was certainly night time when Ryan emerged from his bedroom, shuffled to the kitchen, grabbed a diet Coke, and sat on the couch next to Ray.  Ryan had a blanket pulled around him, still shirtless, but Ray didn’t even glance at him, just kept methodically taking out each of the players in the game he was playing.

 

“I understand if you’re angry,” Ryan said quietly.

 

“I’ve been sitting on your couch playing Call of Duty for six hours.  Why would you think I’m angry?” Ray asked somewhat sarcastically.

 

“Go ahead and ask, then,” Ryan said.

 

“Why did you lie to me?” Ray asked, the first question to pop out of his mouth.

 

“I didn’t lie to you,” Ryan said.

 

“Okay, why did you purposefully tell me half-truths and omit certain important details?” Ray asked.

 

“I expected you to put it together,” Ryan said.

 

“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I didn’t,” Ray said, teeth gritted in anger as he got yet another kill.  “When were you planning on telling me?”

 

“I don’t imagine I could have kept it up much longer,” Ryan said.  “I thought I was caught the second I saw you on the sidewalk outside the shop.  I thought Geoff had followed me home one time and was sending the one member of his crew he knew I wouldn’t just put a knife through to call me on my bullshit.”

 

“Well, he didn’t,” Ray said.  “There’s tons of computer repair shops in Los Santos.  There’s at least six.”

 

“There’s exactly six.”

 

“There’s exactly six computer repair shops in Los Santos,” Ray amended.  “I just happened to pick yours.”

 

“I figured that out,” Ryan said.  “Still can’t believe _Geoff Lazer Ramsey_ would let anyone he hadn’t personally vetted fix his personal laptop.”

 

“What are you going to find?  His and Griffon’s sex tapes?” Ray replied.

 

 “I’ll let you know when I start moving files,” Ryan said with a chuckle.  Ray felt like such an idiot.  He should have recognized Ryan’s laughs immediately.  He’d spent over a year studying the Vagabond’s laughter.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ray asked, more angry this time.  “Never mind that I’m an idiot, because I am, but you should have told me.  And what the _fuck_ is going on with you and Meg?”  Ryan sighed.

 

“Gavin told you?”

 

“Of fucking course he did,” Ray said.  “He’s my brother, he doesn’t keep things from me.”

 

“Then you know the story,” Ryan said.

 

“Why did you kill her?  How could you kill someone as sweet as Meg?  Someone you knew as intimately as your _wife_?” Ray spat.  “If you could kill her in cold blood, what’s to say you wouldn’t do the same to me?”  Ray finally shot a look at Ryan, who looked angry, chewing on the inside of his cheeks to contain himself.

 

“She came back,” Ryan said, angrily, gritting his teeth.

 

“You didn’t know that!” Ray exclaimed. “How could you do that?  What the fuck possessed you to _kill_ her?  How did you do it?  Huh?  Bullet in her brain?  Too easy.  Knife?  Right in the heart?  Or, more likely in her back?”  Ray brutally headshotted another player in his game.  “Maybe you just strangled her.  I don’t know how anyone could go through that kind of emotional hell and still want to be your partner.  I don’t even want to look at you.  I should have known right from the start.  ‘It was years ago and you’ve made your peace with it’?  What kind of psycho says that?  You know what I would do if a stupid fuck in a mask killed someone I cared about?  I would hunt him down, befriend him, let him start to care about me, and then cut him into so many pieces, the chunks would have to grow him back instead of the other way around.”  Ryan moved, maybe just to get more comfortable on the couch, maybe just an unconscious squirm.  He could have been just setting down his empty can of diet Coke, but one second Ray was just yelling, venting his frustration, the next, Ray had the barrel of his pistol pressed against Ryan’s forehead.  “If you so much as lay one unwanted _breath_ on me, I will personally tell Geoff that you’re retired.”

 

“It was an accident,” Ryan said quietly.  “I would never hurt you, Ray.  I swear.”

 

“Isn’t that a part of marriage vows?” Ray asked.  “I don’t care how it happened.  I want to know what you possibly could have said to her to get her to trust you again.”

 

“Ray, please,” Ryan said.  Ray cocked the gun he still had pressed to Ryan’s forehead.

 

“We both know it won’t kill you, but it will slow you down,” Ray warned.

 

“When she came back, she was different,” Ryan began to explain.  “Both of us were.  There’s studies on immortals, your first death is always the worst, and it changes you.  You become your purest form.  Mine is dark.  The Vagabond is a killer.  Why?  Maybe because I committed murder-suicide, maybe because I’m touched in the head, I don’t know.  Meg, she is a beautiful flower.  She’s never killed anyone and she never will.  She was so powerful, and so smart, but she would have followed me to the ends of the earth.  She would have worshipped me on my throne as the Mad King.  I could have had her as the Harley Quinn to my Joker, ruling Los Santos.  But she’s amazing, and I love her, still do.  She deserved more than that.”

 

“What did you do, Ryan?” Ray asked, shoving his gun into Ryan’s forehead a little more forcefully.

 

“I killed her again,” Ryan said.  “Hoping she would reset.”

 

“Did she?”

 

“Sort of,” Ryan said.  “Knocked some sense into her at least.  She didn’t want anything to do with me for a little while.  It was too late for me.  I’d had my taste of murder, and I wasn’t turning back.  It’s become easier for me to separate that now.  I’m not bloodthirsty anymore.  I murder because I enjoy it.”

 

“Murder is not a hobby, Ryan!” Ray practically screamed.

 

“Says the guy holding a gun to my head,” Ryan replied.

 

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Ray asked.  “When you kill civilians, they are _dead_.  They don’t come back, they don’t respawn, they don’t magically heal, they’re _dead_.  Their families mourn them, there’s a funeral, everyone cries, because they are _gone_.  It rips people apart.  Emotionally devastated.  Orphans.  These are _people._   Not video game characters, not pawns in whatever chess game you’re trying to play.  You are not God.  You are human.”  Ryan was silent and Ray lowered his gun.  “You’re not God.”  Ray had overhead Geoff knocking the same sense into Michael when he’d first joined the crew.  He put his gun back in his pants and turned back to the TV.

 

“They underestimate you,” Ryan said.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Michael, Lindsay, Gavin, even Geoff.  They all underestimate you,” Ryan repeated.  “You’re never going to go quietly into that good night.  When Geoff retires, you’ll take his place and you’ll be damn good at it.”

 

“Unlikely,” Ray snorted.  Ray was pretty sure Lindsay was slotted to take over the crew, at least the behind the scenes part of it.  And Ray was definitely not going to be the front man for the Red Queen.

 

“Ray, you almost just shot me point blank in the fuckin face over _orphans_ ,” Ryan said, smiling.  “Who else would do that but Geoff Ramsey?”

 

“I still will fuckin shoot you if you displease me,” Ray muttered.  “I’m still pissed.”

 

“Meg and I were the dictionary definition of the ‘it’s complicated’ relationship status on Facebook,” Ryan said.  “It’s over.  We’re friends now.  She’s with Gavin, and he’s much better for her than I was.”

 

“I’m pissed you didn’t tell me!” Ray burst out.

 

“Right, okay, next time this happens, I’ll lead with ‘pst, Ray, it’s me…. Vagabond’,” Ryan said sarcastically.

 

“I’m not any less dangerous without a gun, I assure you,” Ray said, still not looking at Ryan.

 

“But you’re still not leaving,” Ryan said.

 

“I’m busy, and I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” Ray said.

 

“I’m going to make dinner.  Are you hungry?” Ryan asked.

 

“I haven’t moved in seven hours, of course I’m hungry,” Ray snarked.

 

“You are full of vinegar today,” Ryan said, getting off the couch to go to the kitchen.

 

“Oh, sorry, you’re right, I should be in a better mood,” Ray said.  “Never mind that the guy I was seeing turned out to be the lunatic in a skull mask I’ve been masochistically lusting after for months.”

 

“What?”

 

“Masochistically,” Ray enunciated.  “Big word.  Means ‘Ray is a big fuckin idiot’.”

 

“You were lusting after… Vagabond?” Ryan asked.  Ray snorted.  “Why?”

 

“Because I knew there had to be another part of him that we didn’t see,” Ray said.  “He was mysterious, and that shit turns everybody on.  Geoff, Michael, Gav, they’re all terrified of their women.  And, woohoo for me, it turns out I was right.  Asshole in a skull mask does have a tortured past or whatever shit they give villains to try to make them human. Go fuckin figure.”

 

“Don’t devillainize the Vagabond.  Don’t… don’t devillainize me,” Ryan said.  “I’m not a good guy.”

 

“I mean, I don’t give a fuck about good guys or bad guys,” Ray said.  “I kill people for a living.  I shoot people with a pink sniper rifle, and their brains get all over the road, and that is how I keep food on my table.  Could I stop doing that and just get a shitty job at GameStop?  Absolutely, no fucks given.  Shoulder angel shows up, he says ‘Ray, stop killing people, it’s bad’ and I’m like shit you’re right.  Boom, I’m a civilian.  Geoff would probably prefer it.  I know he worries about me.   Am I going to do that?  Hell no.  I love heisting just as much as you do, the danger rush.  I love having a crew, people who have my back, friends??  Very weird?  I never had friends when I was a kid.  I knew a few homeless kids from a couple blocks over, and they tried to make their way into my alley?  I fuckin Michael Jones’d those kids.  They were not allowed in my territory.”

 

“Two questions so far, why does your shoulder angel have Gavin’s voice?” Ryan asked.

 

“My shoulder devil is Michael,” Ray explained.

 

“Of course,” Ryan nodded.  “Two, you Michael Jones’d the kids?”

 

“Yeah, I Mogar’d em,” Ray said.  “They were trying to make a move on my stuff, and I beat em the fuck up.”

 

“I want to believe that, because it’s impressive, but I just don’t,” Ryan said.

 

“So I got my ass kicked,” Ray shrugged.  “I ended up trading one of them a rare Pokemon card to leave me alone.  Whatever.  Backstory is subjective.  Get off my tits.  At least I’m not wearing a skull mask and leading a weird double life.”

 

“So Geoff found you on the street and took you in?” Ryan asked, ignoring the jibe about his mask.

 

“Gavin and I knew each other before my mom died,” Ray explained.  “Sort of.  We went to the same school.”

 

“Why are there so many homeless orphans in Los Santos?” Ryan asked.

 

“Because we killed their parents,” Ray said.  “How many do you think you’ve killed?”

 

“Uh…”  Ryan paused in measuring pasta to think.

 

“Not counting cops, or Meg, or other immortals, or yourself, or anyone actively trying to kill you, how many innocents do you think you’ve killed?” Ray asked.

 

“Oh, I don’t know, a bunch,” Ryan said, pouring the pasta shells into boiling water.  “You?”

 

“Three,” Ray said.  The words hung in the air.

 

“Well, you should try your hand at melee, you’d get more kills that way,” Ryan joked.

 

“It’s not a game, Ryan!” Ray yelled again, throwing his controller in frustration.  “Life is not an open-world MMO with PVP turned on.  You need to stop!”

 

“Are you sure Geoff didn’t put you up to this?” Ryan asked.

 

“Why would he have?” Ray asked, shutting the Xbox and TV off, and walking into the kitchen.

 

“Because you sound a hell of a lot like him,” Ryan said, stirring the pasta calmly.  “I know he doesn’t like the way I operate, but I don’t know what comes over me.  The bloodlust is so strong.”

 

“If you weren’t one of the most, if not the most wanted criminal in Los Santos, I’d advise you to get therapy,” Ray said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

 

“I advise me to get therapy too,” Ryan chuckled, fiddling with a can of alfredo sauce, before popping the cap off and pouring the contents into a saucepan.

 

“And why would Geoff send me?  You’ve said that like four times tonight,” Ray asked.

 

“Because Geoff knows that, of the crew, you’re the only one I won’t hurt, even if you piss me off,” Ryan said, now stirring the alfredo, keeping his back to Ray, as it had been through their entire conversation.  “I probably wouldn’t hurt Lil J, but he doesn’t have the _cojones_ to talk to me either way.”

 

“You literally murdered your ex-wife in cold blood twice,” Ray deadpanned, “but for whatever reason, I’m supposed to believe you won’t hurt me?”

 

“Geoff’s the last guy to approve of innocent bloodspill,” Ryan said.  “If they’re in the way, sure.  If it’s the difference between getting caught and getting away, waste them.  Cops, already dead.  But civilians?  Geoff’s never liked the way I do things.  He mentioned maybe I tone things down once, and sometimes, I feel like he doesn’t want me here.  But he’s scared of me, even though I probably wouldn’t kill him.  Michael, Gav, Jack, I’d take them out without a second thought.   You though…”

 

“Geoff would throw himself on a bomb for any of us.  So would I.  So would Gav.  Somehow I get the feeling that you or Michael wouldn’t do us the same favor,” Ray said.

 

“The Ramseys raised their children with compassion,” Ryan told him.  “Which is something I’d forgotten exists, even in this shitty town.”

 

“Michael wants to have last man standing out at the track sometime,” Ray said.  “If Geoff lets us.  I told him my money’s on you.”

 

“Well,” Ryan chuckled darkly.  “That’s certainly a safe bet, isn’t it?  I’m surprised Geoff wanted me for the crew, knowing I could easily, _so_ easily, cut through you all and stand victorious.”

 

“We’re all immortal, dumbass,” Ray said, rolling his eyes.  “Even if you do it, it won’t matter.  I’m surprised Geoff wanted you for the crew because the whole Vagabond thing practically _screams_ doesn’t play well with others.”

 

“Am I that bad?” Ryan asked, chopping cooked chicken breast nonchalantly.  “Should I take a murder break?”

 

“Probably!” Ray almost shouted.  “Jesus, Ryan, you seemed like a normal guy yesterday.  This split personality thing is sending a lot of mixed signals.”

 

“Okay, I’ll take a murder break, if it’ll make you happy,” Ryan shrugged, throwing the chunks of chicken into the alfredo sauce.

 

“What are we doing?” Ray sighed, putting his head down on the kitchen table.

 

“I’m making pasta shells with chicken alfredo,” Ryan said.  “You said you were hungry, right?”

 

“I didn’t strictly mean for dinner,” Ray said.

 

“I don’t know what we’ll do after, do you want to play something besides Call of Duty?  I’ve got a sweet minecraft world we could screw around in,” Ryan suggested, stirring the pasta one more time before turning the heat off.

 

“I mean, us,” Ray sighed again.  “You and me.  I was kinda enjoying dating Ryan the IT guy.  But now you’re like… Ryan the Vagabond guy.  And it’s weird.”

 

“I can be Ryan the IT guy again, if you want?” Ryan offered.  “I think I left my glasses in the bedroom.”

 

“I mean, you can’t, because we took the cat out of the bag, and then I shot the bag, and the cat moved to Vice City,” Ray said.

 

“Ridiculous metaphors are usually Gavin’s area, not yours,” Ryan remarked.

 

“Whatever.  You know what I mean,” Ray said.  There was a pause in conversation while Ryan dumped the pasta into a colander and steam filled the kitchen, fogging up the window over the sink.

 

“Let’s start over,” Ryan suggested, getting two plates from the cupboard.  “Let’s imagine this is where we went, when I asked if you liked pasta.  It’s our first date and we’re eating pasta, you’re nervous but you think I’m a hot Dad, and I’m an IT guy with a soft spot for cute Puerto Ricans.”

 

“Fetish alert,” Ray joked as Ryan put a plate of chicken alfredo shells in front of him.  “Goddamn, Ryan, you expect me to eat this much?  Are you in cahoots with Jack to try to fatten me up?”

 

“Might be,” Ryan grinned, sitting down across from him.

 

“So what’s a nice guy like you doing in Los Santos?” Ray asked.  “You’re a stand-up guy, right, Rye?”

 

“Oh, honey, I’ll tell you my story, if you tell me yours,” Ryan said.  Ray took the bait this time, telling Ryan all about how he’d come to live with Geoff, and how he and Michael had hated each other for years, and one time when Geoff got beat up by an old lady, and Ray just stood and laughed.

 

“Your turn, old man,” Ray said.  “You better have some dessert ready, because your story is going to be like four times longer than mine.  Cuz you’re so old, get it?”

 

“I’m thirty!” Ryan exclaimed.  “I’ve only had the shop ten years this November.”

 

“So when you opened your repair shop, I was still living with my mother, and Meg was 14?” Ray smirked.

 

“God, she was way too young for me,” Ryan sighed.

 

“She’s got a good three years on me!” Ray exclaimed.

 

“You’re legal, though,” Ryan said.  “She was 16 when I met her.”

 

“Oh boy,” Ray’s train of thought immediately derailed.  “And we’re back to pervert.”

 

“Back to pervert?  When were we at pervert?!” Ryan asked indignantly.  “Murderer, yes, psycho, yes, bloodthirsty, yes, but not a pervert.”

 

“A young man like myself worries about things when on dates with older men,” Ray snipped.  Ryan’s phone started ringing suddenly.  He rolled his eyes and answered the call.

 

“Hello.  You’ve reached the dinner table at the Haywood residence.  How may I direct your call?”

 

He’d put it on speaker, and Ray could hear Meg’s voice.  “Gav says you died and I told him he’s full of shit.”

 

“Yeah, he’s full of shit.  I was full of bullets, but still alive,” Ryan said.  “Ray took good care of me.”

 

“Ray’s there?”

 

“Hi Meg,” Ray said.

 

“Does he know?” Meg asked.

 

“Nah, I’m eating pasta with a douchebag in a skull mask.  It’s really creepy when he pulls it up to take bites,” Ray replied.

 

“Okay, well, I’ll let you two have fun,” Meg laughed.  “Don’t rough him up too much.”

 

“I’ll only stab him if he asks nicely,” Ray agreed.  Meg hung up, still laughing.

 

“You are an entire bag of salt and vinegar chips today,” Ryan told Ray.

 

“I still don’t get how you two are friends,” Ray said.

 

“If death is the ultimate punishment that the laws or the government can enforce, and an immortal cannot die, the immortal is therefore both above the law and a criminal, simply by existing,” Ryan no doubt quoted some book he’d read on the subject.

 

“Clearly, you know how to speak English,” Ray deduced.

 

“Yes?” Ryan asked hesitantly.

 

“Why is the Vagabond the silent killer type?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s not as intimidating when you find out he’s actually a huge nerd with a huger vocabulary but trips over small words,” Ryan said.

 

“You put probably like two hours’ worth of effort into a powerpoint presentation for your heist,” Ray pointed out.  “You could have just saved us all the aggravation and told us.  We’re your crew.  You should trust us.”

 

“I’ve… Fake AH is not like other crews.  Even the old Pattillo crew is not like the Ramsey side,” Ryan said.  “I should know.  I crumbled the old Pattillo crew.”

 

“ _You_ crumbled the old Pattillo crew?” Ray asked, in disbelief.  “By yourself?”

 

“Meg and I,” Ryan said.  “She was undercover.  That’s where she met Gavin, back when he was still trying to bang Michael.”

 

“He was only trying to bang Michael because I told him we should break up,” Ray said.

 

“You and Gavin?” Ryan asked, confused.

 

“Yeah, man, X-Ray and Vav,” Ray said.  “We were teenagers.  Nothing serious, bro.”

 

“Don’t bro me,” Ryan frowned.

 

“Dude, homie, amigo,” Ray continued defensively.  “Geoff lets me call him bro.”

 

“I don’t know if Geoff so much ‘lets’ us do things as ‘can’t actually stop’ us from doing things,” Ryan said. 

 

“Like what?” Ray asked, reaching for his glass of diet coke.

 

“Like you and the blazing,” Ryan said.  Ray almost choked on his drink from trying not to laugh.

 

“Ry, come on, you really think I’m blazin it all the time?  Where would I get the money for weed?” Ray asked.

 

“Being Ramsey crew pays pretty well,” Ryan said, bewildered.  Ray shook his head with an implied nah.  “It does, we have the same job.”

 

“Geoff keeps my cut,” Ray said.  “Like, on purpose, I told him to keep it.”

 

“Why?” Ryan asked, confused.

 

“He pays for everything I need,” Ray shrugged.  “He pays for my apartment, he buys me video games, I eat his food, if I need more ammo, he’s got me covered.”

 

“That’s… I mean, alright, if you’re cool with it…” Ryan said, still frowning in confusion.

 

“Wow, you believe that shit?” Ray laughed.  “Of course Geoff doesn’t keep my cut.  I blow that shit on video games and fast food, are you kidding me?”

 

“You have… no idea how much the take is, do you?” Ryan asked.  Ray shrugged.  He didn’t care.  Geoff said something about starting him a savings account under an alias once, but Ray had been playing Halo with Gavin at the time and certainly not paying attention to the grown-up talk.  Ray didn’t have expenses, really.  If he wanted something big, Geoff got it for him.  He had enough for food and ammo on his own.  “Wow.”  Ryan got up to get a second helping of chicken alfredo.

 

“Does Jack know you and Meg were the ones that finally took out the Pattillo crew?” Ray asked.

 

“She does.  She also knows we were hired to do it, and mercs do anything for the right price,” Ryan said.  “The Pattillo crew hasn’t been run by Jack since before I got into this.  If anything, Michael was more or less running it himself when we shut it down.  Almost fuckin had him.  Would have tripled our pay if we’d taken out Mogar.  But he had to jump like a rat from a burning boat.”

 

“Newsflash:  He’s an immortal,” Ray reminded Ryan.  “Even if you’d taken him out, you wouldn’t have taken him out.”

 

“Still would have paid up if I brought proof,” Ryan said.  “Whether the target comes back after he’s been thoroughly deadened isn’t my fault.”

 

“Does Michael know it was you who did it?” Ray asked, curiously.

 

“Yes,” Ryan chuckled darkly.  “Well, he knows it was Meg and the Vagabond.  Why do you think he was so against hiring me?”

 

“Because you’re a merc who will do anything for the right price, including taking out the entire crew you’re balls deep in,” Ray said.  “But, again, newsflash, bro, there’s a reason Fake AH keeps coming out on top:  we’re all immortals.  Even Lil J.  When Geoff finally convinces Kovic and the Willemses to join us, we’ll be able to stop fending off the fuckin Funhaus immortals, and be one giant super crew.  Who hate each other.  Like the Ramsey-Pattillo alliance back in the day.”

 

“When Jack retired, Meg and I were getting married,” Ryan reminisced.

 

“Gav and I were making out behind the bleachers at the high school,” Ray laughed.  “We literally just swapped.”  He started laughing so hard he banged his hand on the table a few times.  “Shit.  What the fuck are we doing?”

 

“We’re eating dinner,” Ryan said.  “You’re much more talkative this time around.”

 

“Not having to lie makes it easier to say things,” Ray pointed out, flourishing his fork and taking the bite of chicken off the end.

 

“Do you think the chief of the LSPD throws darts at our pictures?” Ryan asked.

 

“What?” Ray laughed.

 

“I’ve always wondered,” Ryan said, fairly.  “Certainly the FAHC is the most wanted gang in Los Santos, therefore we must all be on the LSPD Most Wanted list, our photos have to be in the police station.  I hope they got a sweet security cam photo of you with the anime chick mask.”

 

“Matches my guns,” Ray said defensively.

 

“Totally,” Ryan agreed.  “What number most wanted do you think you are?”

 

“Fourth,” Ray said immediately.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.   You’re number one, obviously, you have the most confirmed kills,” Ray said.  “Then it’s Geoff, he’s the leader, so obvious, again.  Then it’s a tradeoff between me and Michael, but I think he’s third and I’m fourth, just for pure carnage level.  If it’s sheer number of cops taken out, I might have the edge on him, but he’s caused more destruction.  But, then again, if they’re doing racial profiling, I’ll be number one, and the rest of you will be fine, probably.”

 

“I never really meant to become Los Santos’ Most Wanted,” Ryan said.

 

“I think you did,” Ray argued.  “You’ve got the perfect cover.  You’ve got a little shop, little wife.  They’d never recognize the Vagabond without the mask.  I didn’t.”

 

“You know, for being the city’s (arguably) fourth most wanted criminal, you’re laughably oblivious about things,” Ryan said, a bemused smile growing on his face.

 

“Dude, all Clark Kent needed was a pair of glasses, and I’m supposed to recognize the fucking Vagabond through a full face mask?” Ray asked.

 

“He also slicked his hair back,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“A LOT of guys in Los Santos are six foot two with Dad jeans,” Ray said, defensively.  “I didn’t really expect the most wanted criminal in the city to be leading a double life as a house husband and a computer nerd.”

 

“They never do,” Ryan agreed.

 

Once they finished dinner, they continued their discourse over Minecraft, where Ray proceeded to pick every rose he saw, much to Ryan’s frustration, as he’d apparently just gotten them all laid out in some sort of pattern.

 

“Dude, dare you to punch that enderman,” Ray joked.  “Don’t be a bitch.”  Ryan sighed and got inevitably murdered by the enderman.  “Haha, wow, what a bitch.”  Ray took down the enderman’s remaining health and retrieved the experience it dropped.  “Where’d you go?  Where is that?”  Ray looked at Ryan’s screen.  They were both running PC Minecraft on two different PCs, in the same LAN session, on two monitors, both sitting on the couch with keyboards on their laps, making it really difficult to do much of anything, because of the lack of a flat surface for mousing.  The portability of desktop PCs is only limited by your lack of creativity and motivation.  Also, Ryan is a fucking NERD.

 

“Uh… this is my spawn,” Ryan said, trying to get through his iron door, but failing.

 

“You live in a fucking castle?” Ray asked.  “You got way too much free time, homeskillet.”

 

“When you call me stuff like ‘homeskillet’, it makes me want to kiss you less,” Ryan said with a quick eye roll.

 

“Wow, sorry,” Ray said with a short laugh.  “I can fix this one, homes.”  He pulled Ryan’s mouse from his hand quickly, discarded both of their keyboards, and crawled into his lap before Ryan could protest.  “You’re still the same guy you were yesterday afternoon, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.  “More or less.  Less, probably.  Maybe more.”

 

“Nerd.”  Ray kissed him eagerly and Ryan smiled into it.  “Are you going to show your face to the rest of the crew?”

 

“Maybe,” Ryan shrugged.  “I hadn’t planned on it.  I like them afraid of me.”

 

“Cuz I was thinking, if you didn’t, I could introduce you to them as my boyfriend, Ryan the IT Guy, and we could piss ourselves laughing at Geoff trying to be all protective Dad, and there could be a running joke about how Vagabond just never seems to be home when you’re around,” Ray joked.

 

“Let’s do it,” Ryan agreed immediately.

 

“It’s not too mean?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s fucking great,” Ryan grinned.  “I’ll do it.  But first, we need to finish something.”  He put one hand on Ray’s cheek and brought him back in for more kissing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to this chapter for being funny and pretty much nothing else. Also cute. Funny and cute.

The next morning, Ray woke up, cozy in bed and well-rested for the first time in longer than he could easily recall, smiling to himself.  He could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen, so he stretched, popping and cracking at least half of his joints as he did so, then hopped out of bed, picked up his glasses, and pulled a pair of Ryan’s pajama pants on.  They were green and black plaid, and two sizes too big, but Ray didn’t care.  He shuffled out to the kitchen, and Ryan spotted him.

 

“No, go back to bed,” Ryan frowned.  He was holding a spatula in one hand and his cell phone in the other.  Ray just stopped everything, flummoxed by the scene in front of him.  Ryan looked to be wearing just boxers and an apron whilst cooking at least four times as much breakfast as the pair of them could ever hope to eat in a week.  “I was making you breakfast in bed, and you have to be in bed or it doesn’t work.”

 

“Okay, okay, jeez,” Ray said in surrender, turning around and heading back to the bedroom.  “The one time I get up before noon and they tell me to go back to sleep.  Why do I bother?”  He dragged his feet back into the bedroom and rolled back into Ryan’s bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand as he did so.  He unlocked said phone, remembering he’d never answered Gavin or Geoff’s messages from the night before.  The 14 messages from Gavin had escalated into 39 texts and 4 voicemails, and the 8 texts from Geoff had multiplied to 19 texts and 2 voicemails, as well as a voicemail from Michael, of all people, and 4 texts from Jack.  Ray rolled his eyes and dialed Geoff.

 

“Suck a butt, dude, do you know what time it is?” Geoff muttered when he answered the phone.  Ray looked at the clock across the room and squinted at the green numbers.

 

“10:47,” Ray read off of it.  “Time to make the donuts, Geoff.”

 

“All donut-making duties were passed off to Jack,” Geoff mumbled.  Ray heard someone else saying something; he assumed it was Griffon, as she was married to Geoff, and they did share a bedroom.  “No, it’s just fuckface.  Finally decided to check in.”  There was a pause while Ray assumed Geoff was taking a moment to wake up and speak to him.  “Alright, kid, you’re alive?”

 

“Yeah, I’m with… uh… I’m at my boyfriend’s house,” Ray said, lamely.

 

“You could let a guy know when you fuck off after a heist.  We all thought you got got,” Geoff said.  There was a dull thump.  Geoff had probably stumbled into a wall in an attempt to get to the living room of the penthouse.

 

“Nah, not a scratch, Geoff, you know me,” Ray said.  “Sorry I didn’t text you back last night, we got a little caught up in stuff.”

 

“Butt stuff?” Geoff asked.

 

“Nah,” Ray scoffed.  Geoff chuckled.

 

“Hey, assholes, Ray’s alive!” Geoff announced to the people he was with.  Ray could hear Jack and Michael’s almost sincere cheers, and Gavin saying something British.  “We thought you were Ghost Ray for sure.”

 

“Thanks,” Ray said with a nod he knew wouldn’t translate through the phone.  “Appreciate the concern, guys.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Geoff said.  “Have you heard from Vagabond?”

 

“Why would I have heard from him?  We’re not exactly buddies,” Ray said.

 

“You have his motorcycle and no one’s heard from him either,” Geoff said.

 

“I don’t know, dude, I’m at my boyfriend’s house,” Ray said, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

“Alright, alright, no need to get testy, we all know you’re not banging the Vagabond,” Geoff said.  Ray fought to not laugh.  Fought so damn hard.  He should get a medal for his performance, really.  “If you hear from him, let me know, okay?”

 

“I will,” Ray promised.

 

“Alright.  I’ll let you get back to your butt stuff,” Geoff said.

 

“We’re not doing butt stuff!” Ray exclaimed, but it was too late.  Geoff had hung up, and Ryan was walking into the room with a tray of breakfast.

 

“We’re not doing butt stuff?” Ryan asked, a little put down.  “Well, damn, why did I make all this food?”

 

“Beats me,” Ray shrugged as Ryan set down the tray and he looked at all the food.  “This is for both of us, right?”

 

“All for you, babe,” Ryan said.

 

“Babe,” Ray snorted, cracking up a little as he picked up the fork.

 

“What?” Ryan asked.

 

“The fearsome Vagabond, the actual Mad King of Los Santos, is calling me ‘babe’,” Ray laughed.  “It’s great.”  Ryan blushed a little bit, though Ray wasn’t sure why.  If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be him.  “Oh, by the way, Geoff’s worried about you.  Did he text you like 87 times?”

 

“Probably,” Ryan admitted.  “I had better things to be focusing on.”

 

“Like what?” Ray asked, smirking.

 

“Just this sniper kid who broke into my house while I was dying,” Ryan said, sitting cross legged near the foot of the bed, facing Ray.  “Really dramatic and everything.  He was apologizing for accidentally shooting me, then screaming about orphans, and trying to make out with me…  It was a lot of mixed signals, actually.”

 

“I hate you,” Ray said, shaking his head, but not able to contain his smile.

 

“Nah,” Ryan scoffed.  “Do you want to go for a drive this morning?”

 

“Uh…”  Ray stopped and frowned, halfway through bringing his fork to his mouth.  “Is this the part where you drive me to the middle of nowhere and execute me before I tell everyone your secret?”  Ryan burst out laughing, a genuine amused laugh.  “Definitely don’t want to go for a drive.  Definitely want to spend the next week hiding under Gavin’s bed while him and Meg guard the door because you probably won’t kill them to get to me.”

 

“Oh, I’ve killed them both before, I wouldn’t bank on that,” Ryan assured him.  “I won’t ditch you in the middle of nowhere.  I thought you might want to go for a drive.”

 

“Why?  What’s the point of the drive?” Ray asked.

 

“Alone time in the Zentorno, going fast, stunt jumps out in the desert…  The list is unending,” Ryan said.  “I’ll let you drive it.”

 

“Done,” Ray agreed.

 

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but if you crash my baby, Geoff will pay the insurance bill on it?” Ryan asked, not confident in Ray’s driving abilities.

 

“Oh, absolutely,” Ray said.  “I’m broke as shit.  Insurance on custom Zentorno’s like… at least 50 dollars.”

 

“You’re not wrong,” Ryan agreed, used to the underestimation jokes Ray made from the year they’d spent working together.  Before he’d realized Ray was joking when he made those sort of jokes, he had felt the will to live drain out of him with each increasingly stupider estimation.  “We may need to plan some quick jobs to get you some cash,” Ryan added.

 

“We can do that in the Zentorno, let’s go,” Ray said, putting his fork down.

 

“Finish your breakfast.  I have to text Geoff and tell him I’m not dead, then I have to call Meg and tell her where we’ll be, just in case, heaven forbid,” Ryan said, gesturing that Ray keep eating. 

 

“Right, right, gotta tell the wife what you and your boyfriend are planning for the day,” Ray agreed.

 

“Oh, hush with the wife shit,” Ryan said, with a laugh, and in that very Ryan way that you both knew he wasn’t joking and could also tell he was just kidding around.

 

“Does Gavin know?” Ray asked.  “Of course he does, he was the one who told me.  I’m dumb.”

 

“Gavin is privy to a lot of things, cuz of frickin Meg,” Ryan admitted.  “Not that he’s fricking Meg.  I mean, I’m sure he probably is, but that isn’t where I meant to go with this.  Just that Meg respects that Ryan and Vagabond are two different people to most of our mutual acquaintances.”

 

“Ryan the double identity guy over here,” Ray said.

 

“Hey now,” Ryan said, gesturing with one hand, “remember, my other identity kills people for a living.”

 

“So do I, old man, so do I,” Ray laughed.

 

It took an hour of laughing, fake arguing, and trying on Ryan’s clothes, but they finally got into Ryan’s Zentorno, with Ray in the driver’s seat.  Ryan was clearly nervous, but trying to hide it.

 

“Come on, Rye, Geoff lets me drive _all_ the _time_.  I’m way better than Gavin, and he actually has a permit,” Ray told him, blowing a stop sign and failing to signal as he pulled a hard right.  Ryan just closed his eyes.  “Whoops.”

 

“Focus on not crashing,” Ryan said in his nervous voice.

 

“Nah, we’re good, the freeway’s right up here,” Ray said.  (Cue cinematic shot of the black Zentorno with the AH green trim lifting slightly off the ground as it careens dangerously onto the Los Santos Freeway.)  “What’s your cover story to ask Geoff to front the insurance bill when I inevitably do crash this, and maybe kill us both?”

 

“Yo, Geoff, Ray crashed my baby, pay up,” Ryan rehearsed.

 

“Does the Vagabond talk to Geoff?” Ray asked, getting to a cruising speed of near 100, dodging and weaving cars as he headed for Blaine County.

 

“Occasionally,” Ryan shrugged.  “The Vagabond used to talk a lot more, but he got mouth AIDS and flubs up his words a lot more.”

 

“So, you talked when you were in the Pattillo crew?” Ray asked.

 

“I was never really ‘in’ the Pattillo crew in the sense that you’re thinking,” Ryan said.

 

“What does that mean?” Ray asked, not looking at the road as he focused on Ryan.

 

“I mean, it was the very beginning of my crime career, I didn’t know what I was doing, and I didn’t have quite the double life setup I have now,” Ryan said.

 

“So... you’re saying Michael would recognize you if he saw you?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s complicated, let’s leave it at that,” Ryan said.

 

“Gav will tell me later anyway,” Ray told him.  “Can this thing do jumps?”

 

“ _Can it do jumps_ ,” Ryan mocked.  “This is a Pegassi Zentorno.  Of course it can do jumps.  Please don’t kill us, I don’t want to be inconvenienced by death today.”

 

Ray managed not to kill both of them flying off stunt ramps out in the desert, and when they rolled up to the penthouse, Ray even managed to park in the garage. 

 

“Good job,” Ryan remarked, pulling on his blue and black leather jacket.

 

“This was the most fun I’ve had since, like… I dunno,” Ray shrugged.  “Maybe ever.”

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Ryan replied, leaning over the center console.  Ray leaned forward as well, kissing him for the last time in at least a few hours, since their relationship was new and a secret to the crew.

 

“I think I’ll miss Ryan when you’re Vagabond,” Ray said as Ryan fished his mask out of the back.

 

“I’m still me,” Ryan said fairly.  “Just with a gnarly mask.”

 

“You’re right, you’re much more intimidating when you don’t speak,” Ray said.

 

“What? Why?” Ryan asked, jokingly offended.

 

“Dude, you used the word ‘gnarly’.  I don’t think I can continue this relationship,” Ray shook his head.  Ryan laughed, and Ray did too.  “I guess we have to go up.  And I’ll do all the explaining.  Damn, you have a good shtick going with that mask.”  Ryan pulled said mask on, grinning as he did so, and they exited the car.  “I don’t think I’ve actually said a full sentence to you in the whole time you’ve been here.”

 

“Don’t think so, no,” Ryan replied, slightly muffled by the whatever his mask was made of.

 

“Shut up, dude, I’m doing the talking,” Ray reprimanded him.  They entered the elevator and Ray punched the penthouse code.  “You did remember to tell Geoff you didn’t up and move to Ecuador after the heist yesterday, right?”  Ryan nodded, trying to get back into silent mode after several days of chatting with Ray.  “K, good.  I don’t want him thinking we’re banging.”  Ryan chuckled.  “It’s so weird now, not hearing you have some dumbass remark.”

 

“Believe me, it’s hard to shut the fuck up,” Ryan told him.  “When I’m at home, I’m just an endless stream of conversation with myself.  Meg’s probably considered killing me for it a few times.  Rest assured, every time I laugh, I have at least three dumbass remarks and two smartass ones.”

 

“Oh, boy, over the year you’ve been here, that’s literally dozens of comebacks I’ve missed,” Ray calculated.

 

“You’re not wrong,” Ryan agreed. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened.  In front of them was the apartment door that meant a whole lot of pretending.

 

“Last chance to change your mind,” Ray said.

 

“Was gonna say the same to you,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Here we go,” Ray sighed, walking forward and pushing the (of course) unlocked door open.  “What’s up bitches, I’m back!”  Ryan followed behind him.

 

“Yay,” Jack and Michael said sarcastically from the couch. 

 

“And I found this guy lurking outside like a creepy motherfucker,” Ray said, indicating Ryan behind him.  “That’s not true.  I was walking home and he picked me up.  Good Guy Vagabond strikes again.”  Michael snorted.  “Where’s Gav?”

 

“Went out with Meg and Lindsay,” Jack said.  “Something about shopping and having a girl’s night.”

 

“Sounds about right,” Ray agreed.  “Are we playing anything interesting?”  He sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch where Michael and Jack were sitting.  Ryan slunk into the hallway.

 

“Halo,” Michael said, “but we can change it if you wanna do something else.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Ray shrugged.  Ryan slunk back from the hallway into the kitchen for some Diet Coke.  (He’s a slinky motherfucker. – Geoff Ramsey)

 

“Geoff said you were at your boyfriend’s last night?” Jack asked Ray.  Ray flushed.  He knew someone was going to bring it up, he just wished it hadn’t been these two people, and especially now with Ryan within earshot.

 

“Yeah, I have a boyfriend,” Ray grudgingly admitted quietly.  “I know it’s like dangerous or whatever, but what the hell, everyone else has someone, why shouldn’t I?”

 

“Yeah, even Jack has a girlfriend,” Michael said, jerking a thumb in her direction.

 

“Really?”

 

“Not important,” Jack waved a hand to dismiss that topic.  “Good for you, Ray, though.  I’m happy for you.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Ray replied.  Michael smirked.

 

“Your mother would have been happy for you too,” Jack told Ray.

 

“You didn’t know her, maybe she wouldn’t be,” Ray said fairly.  “Doesn’t matter.  Sure, I’m immortal but neither of my parents were.”

 

“I killed my parents,” Jack admitted.

 

“Wow, this got heavy really fast.  Does anyone want to talk about something else?” Michael suggested.  “Better yet, let’s play some games.  What can we play on one screen with three people?”

 

“Um… Trials?” Ray guessed.

 

“Trials!” Michael almost shouted, changing games quickly, even though he was terrible at Trials.

 

“They weren’t nice or anything,” Jack shrugged.  “No one misses them.”

 

“Hey, bitch, you wanna play games with us?” Michael called over his shoulder.  Vagabond looked around dramatically, then pointed to himself, questioningly.  “Yeah, you.  I called you bitch, big whoop, wanna fight about it?”

 

“I got money on his highness,” Jack said immediately.

 

“Same,” Ray agreed.  Vagabond slunk from the kitchen into the living room and sat in the chair across from Ray.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Michael said vindictively, tossing him a controller, and handing one to Ray as well.

 

“Play nice, Michael,” Jack scolded him.

 

“You wanna be my mom too?  I can pay for myself, thanks, I don’t need to kiss up to you and Geoff,” Michael said.

 

“Is that why you hate me?” Ray asked with a laugh.  “Look, man, I’m not mooching off Geoff.  I earn my keep in this crew same as the rest of you.  Maybe I got brought in because I’m _family_ , but you guys would never make a cent without me.”

 

“Boys, knock it off,” Jack warned.  Michael and Ray immediately dropped their angry tones, knowing from experience not to mess with Jack when she was in Mom mode, though they both continued to smolder in their seats.  “How was your day, Mr. Bones?”  Jack often came up with different cute nicknames for the Vagabond, since he didn’t seem to have a name, and most were related to his outfit, demeanor, or actions.  She’d called him ‘Mr. Grumpy Gills’ at a yacht party once and lived to tell the tale.  Jack insisted to anyone who listened that his full name was Vagabond Q. Bones, Esquire.  The Q stood for Quincy.  One time she’d tried to convince Geoff to call him ‘Baby V’, and it had stuck for three weeks, and ended with a knife in the wall next to Geoff’s head.  Ryan shrugged in response to her question and then gave a thumbs up.  “That’s good.  I hope Ray didn’t give you too much trouble.”  Ryan chuckled softly and shook his head.  “Yeah, I know, he’s a good kid, but all the Lads get up to things when we’re not looking.”

 

“Where is Jeremy?” Ray asked, suddenly noticing the fourth Lad wasn’t in the living room like he usually was.

 

“He’s in his room with his guitar,” Jack replied.  “He’s fine, don’t worry.  Everyone dying wasn’t a shock to him like it was to you the first time.”

 

“I’m not a Lad,” Michael muttered, still angry.

 

“Yes, you are,” Jack said.  “You know the rules.  It doesn’t matter that you’re married, if you can’t grow a full beard, you’re a Lad.”

 

“I bet Jeremy can grow a full beard,” Michael retorted.

 

“Jeremy is like 12,” Ray said.  Jack and Ryan both laughed.

 

“He’s about your age, actually,” Jack replied.

 

“I wouldn’t sell either one of us alcohol,” Ray said fairly.  Ryan laughed out loud.  Ray smirked.  Michael finally finished setting up the game and they started playing.

 

“So, Vagabitch.  Your highness, or whatever,” Michael addressed him.  Ryan turned to regard him, the mask betraying nothing.  Jack elbowed Michael in the arm.  “Ow!  I said your highness!”

 

“Don’t call him Vagabitch, you know he hates that,” Jack said.  “If Lindsay finds your dead body in her bed tonight, it’s your fault.”  Ryan laughed as if to agree that was fair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ray is hard to write because he's never been serious for ten seconds in his entire life so i don't know what im gonna do with that kid tbh. that being said, we've got the fun ahead of us, kiddos. i think for a second there i really nailed geoff's characterisation. i'm not trying to toot my horn, i was just pleased with my brain for being able to focus.

Lindsay did not find anyone’s dead body in her bed that night, nor did anyone else, so Ray tagged that one as a win for everybody, and went back to ignoring the feud between Michael and Vagabond.  As it turns out, it’s not as easy as it seems when you’re dating one of them, and the other has decided to be your best friend.

 

“Geoff, I don’t care where you’re going, take me with you,” Ray begged on Wednesday afternoon.

 

“Okay, sure,” Geoff agreed, holding the elevator door open for Ray to come with him.  “Something bugging you?”

 

“Michael’s decided to be my best friend,” Ray told him.  “Which is fine, I want to be his friend, but he’s overbearing as shit and you know I can’t handle that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I get you,” Geoff agreed, humming to himself.

 

“Plus I haven’t been out at all this week, unless the time I’m at my boyfriend’s playing Xbox with him counts as out, which I don’t think Jack would take that, and it really sucks to have to do 12 at once on a Friday,” Ray said.  He followed Geoff into one of Geoff’s cars.

 

“Yeah, this is definitely out,” Geoff said.  “I’ll sign the papers.”

 

“Where are we going?” Ray asked as they pulled out onto the street.

 

“We are going to see how the weapons development is coming along,” Geoff said.

 

“With Dan the Man?” Ray asked, excited to see his old friend after so long.

 

“Nah, he’s still… No, it’s not Dan,” Geoff tried to explain.  “We hired this guy a while back, he’s supposed to be The Best at designing shit.  He’s a total nerd, you’ll love him.”

 

“Oh, sweet,” Ray said.  “We’re getting new weapons?”

 

“Yeah, kinda.  More enhancing the old ones than anything else,” Geoff nodded.  “I think you’re on the list for an enhanced scope, something with digital zoom.  And I think Gavin suggested we hype your glasses, but that’s apparently ‘trickier’ and he’s ‘not an optometrist, Geoff, seriously’.”

 

“I’m pretty good as is,” Ray said off-handedly.

 

“But imagine how much better you could be,” Geoff said.  “I want the best for you guys.”

 

“What about the other guys?  What are they getting?” Ray asked, interested.

 

“Michael wants a launcher for every type of explosive known to mankind, because a grenade launcher and a rocket launcher weren’t enough for him, and they’re running into some issues with that,” Geoff said.  “You know Gavin, as long as we slap some shiny gold paint on it, he’s down with anything.  There’s something in the works for Jack’s piloting too.  But the thing we’re checking on today are my drones.”

 

“Drones?” Ray asked, excited again.

 

“Yeah.  You picked the best day to leave the house,” Geoff told him.  “We’re gonna be testing them, hopefully.  If they’re ready.” 

 

Geoff drove them out into the desert, where the crew owned something of a secret underground bunker.  Ray had never been there, but he knew Jack and Gavin had had to use it as a safehouse once.  The only other thing Ray knew about it was that there were a lot of weapons there, because every time someone went out there, they came home with something new and incredible. 

 

“What are you going to use the drones for?” Ray asked.

 

“Surveillance, mostly.  Recon.  That kind of thing.  I’m hoping they can get into places the B-team can’t,” Geoff said.  “And they should, if they work right.”

 

The elevator dinged at the bottom, and the doors opened, to reveal a massive room, mostly unlit, with shelves of different materials running parallel to the walls, left to right, and a few more rows of processing equipment.  It looked like a mashup of a factory and a warehouse, all underneath the desert by several stories.  Something about fault lines occurred to Ray, but he couldn’t remember enough about it to really entertain the thought for long.

 

“We’re here!” Geoff shouted, walking towards the one corner of the huge room that was lit, where a guy was wearing what looked like a VR helmet, which would explain why he was acting so strangely.

 

“Hey, Geoff,” the man called back.  “I’ll be done in a second, hold on.”  Ray stopped trying to look around curiously and started over to where Geoff and the dude were.

 

“I brought one of the Lads with me,” Geoff said.  “I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you guess which one.”

 

“Ray.”  Ray looked at Geoff, surprised.  “Shot in the dark, but you wouldn’t have offered a hundred bucks if you thought I’d guess it.  Which means, it’s probably the one that never leaves the house.”  He pulled the VR helmet off and grinned at them.  “Hi Ray.”

 

“Hi Ryan,” Ray stuttered out in shock.

 

“I thought you guys had met before,” Geoff said, not noticing Ray’s shock for what it was.  “Are the toys ready?”

 

“Sure are.  Stuck a fork in them this morning,” Ryan replied, setting his helmet down on the work table and grabbing a set of keys.  “Are you ready to see what they can do?  Because it is incredible.”

 

“Of course I’m ready,” Geoff said.  “Are we taking them up to the surface?”

 

“Yeah, why not,” Ryan shrugged.  Geoff and a still confused Ray followed Ryan from the lit corner of the huge room through a doorway and down a hall, through a locked door, down a staircase, around a corner, through a security checkpoint where Ryan had his thumbprint scanned, down another hallway and through another locked door.  Finally Ryan flicked a light switch, and the small room lit up.  Ryan pulled the lid off of a crate and looked inside.  He grinned.  Ryan replaced the lid on the crate, pushed the crate onto a dolly, and pulled the dolly through another door, all the while Geoff and Ray were following him, with increasing looks of alarm about this man’s sanity.

 

“You motherfucker…” Geoff uttered as he saw that they’d immediately emerged back into the first warehouse-like room.

 

“What?  I get bored,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“You’d fit right in with Michael and Gavin, it’s a wonder they’re not over here all the damn time,” Geoff said.  Ryan grinned.

 

“How would you know if they weren’t?” he asked.

 

“What happened to Dan the Man?  Why do we have Rye-bread now?” Ray asked.

 

“You know Dan went back to Britain, kid,” Geoff said.  “He’s in the army now.  He went legit a few years ago.  Which is fine, it’s anyone’s choice to go legit.”

 

“You can’t make me go legit now, Geoff,” Ray whined sarcastically.  “You can’t kill me and you’ll never see me getting a shitty job in retail.  You’re stuck with me.”

 

“Yeah, I’m stuck with all of you,” Geoff said.  “Even Ryan here.”  He knocked his shoulder against Ryan’s as they rode the elevator up to the surface.  “Poor guy fuckin turned white when I asked him if he wanted to join the crew.  Guess some people aren’t cut out for crime and murder.”

 

“Are you an immortal, Ryan?” Ray asked, conversationally.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.  “There are immortals who aren’t directly involved in gang violence.”

 

“Are there?” Ray laughed.  “Even Dr. Burns used to be in a gang.”

 

“You leave Dr. Burns out of this,” Geoff told him.  “I respect Ryan’s decisions.  Being in a gang is a Big Deal, especially being Ramsey Crew.”  Ray shot a look at Ryan, a slight smirk on his face.  Ryan tried his best to look nonchalant, failing admirably as his emotions flew across his face before he managed to get them under control.

 

“How long has Ryan worked for us?” Ray asked Geoff.

 

“You know, I don’t know,” Geoff said, frowning.  “Ryan?”

 

“A while,” Ryan said vaguely.

 

“Did you used to do IT and shit for Jack’s crew?  I feel like that’s how we ended up with you,” Geoff said.  “Not that we’re _stuck_ with you or anything, you’re the best.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been building stuff for Michael since before he joined you guys,” Ryan said.  Ray tried not to bust out a laugh, and ended up exhaling harshly through his nose.  This was, if possible, more surreal than when he’d learned Ryan the IT Guy was actually Ryan the Vagabond Guy.  This was like Ryan the IT/Vagabond/Dad/Weapons/Pattillo Crew Guy.  How many masks was he wearing?  What else didn’t Ray know about him?  Also, he and Michael were friends?  No wonder Ryan hadn’t wanted to tell him more stories from the old Pattillo crew.

 

Geoff was digging into the box holding his drones, and Ryan was trying to explain to Geoff how they worked – the drones themselves were impressive, but Ryan had apparently made some ‘extra’ modifications to the stock models.

 

“This is _incredible_!” Geoff screamed, sitting on the sand, holding the Xbox controller that Ryan had reworked into a drone controller in his lap, moving the drone in front of him up and down, wigging the sticks and pushing the buttons just to see what they did.

 

“Right, the idea is that they go places you can’t get to, so they’re outfitted with a camera, and it controls just like a video game for you,” Ryan said.  “Most of them are controllable via any Xbox controller, there’s a sync button so you can use whatever controller is handy.  Once the camera turns on, it’s all first person, so it’s a little tricky, right stick turns the camera, left stick controls movement, that kind of thing.”

 

“Jack will be really good at flying these,” Geoff said happily.

 

“ _Most_ of them are controllable with an Xbox controller?” Ray asked.

 

“I have 10 here, eight are controllable with xbox controllers.  Some people prefer a mouse and keyboard,” Ryan said.

 

“Ryan the PC Guy,” Geoff rolled his eyes.  “No one is going to use a mouse and keyboard to control a drone if you give them the option of that or an _xbox controller_.”

 

“They’re also fully programmable for auto pilot and basic missions with the PC setup,” Ryan said.  “Can you do that with a controller?”  The word controller no longer looks real.  There is doubt that that is even a word, but no other word can be found to describe the product.

 

“Maybe, I don’t know, I didn’t program them,” Geoff said, finally finding the takeoff button and sending his drone sky high.  “Whoa!”  He almost dropped the controller in surprise.

 

“Click the right stick to turn on the camera,” Ryan said, setting up a monitor in front of Geoff.

 

“It’s tiny!” Geoff complained.

 

“It’s meant to produce video onto your phone, but you assholes all have iFruit so it’s gonna be, as Michael says, a _whole thing_ ,” Ryan said, sighing.

 

“You know whose idea the drones were?” Geoff asked Ray.  “Joel’s.”

 

“Yeah, Joel did have a thing for drones,” Ray agreed, taking the controller Ryan handed him and starting the motor for the drone it was synced to.

 

“Joel had a thing for you,” Geoff giggled, experimentally making his drone loop the loop, whether on purpose or on accident.

 

“He also had a thing for expensive women,” Ray replied without missing a beat.  “And, hoo boy, did expensive women have a thing for him.”

 

“He may look like he hasn’t aged a day in 15 years, but he was way too old for you,” Geoff said.  Ray could feel his face getting hot and tried to hide it from Ryan.  “Your new boyfriend’s not twice your age, right?”

 

“If I wanted to date someone in their forties, I would just hit on you,” Ray retorted.  Geoff snorted.

 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to respect your elders?” Geoff asked him.

 

“Sounds like something my father should have taught me,” Ray shot back.

 

“Young’ns these days,” Geoff said to Ryan.  Ryan just laughed.  “You’re Griff’s age, right?”

 

“Yup, I’m 30,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Is that too old for me?” Ray teased.

 

“I dunno… maybe,” Geoff said.  “Rye’s pretty damaged goods anyway, I don’t think you want him.”

 

“Weird, cuz we’re dating,” Ray said, keeping a straight face through some miracle.  Geoff dropped his controller and his drone nearly crashed into a rock, but Ryan managed to catch it before it exploded.

 

“Jesus, Ray!  I’m an old man!  You can’t just drop this shit on me!” Geoff exclaimed.

 

“What?  You knew I had a boyfriend,” Ray shrugged.

 

“I didn’t know it was our weapons developer!” Geoff exclaimed.  “Ryan!”

 

“What?  Don’t drag me into this, I just work here,” Ryan deflected.

 

“You’re dating my boy, you’re family now,” Geoff told him.

 

“Oh… no, that’s okay, thanks anyway,” Ryan continued to deflect.  “Ray, I’ve just remembered, I don’t want the Ramseys as my parents in law.”

 

“Dude, join the club,” Ray laughed, continuing to fly his drone around without a care.  “I have to live with the fact that Geoff is going to tell everyone I’m hashtag confirmed into older men when we get home.  Not exactly what I was expecting from this outing, but the guy did pick me up off the street and handed me a gun with some hot food and a place to live, so I can’t complain that much.”

 

“What, like, they don’t already know that?” Geoff asked.

 

“I’m pretty sure Michael wasn’t around when I spent a solid 18 months chasing Joel’s dick – which was a _disappointment_ – so I’m sure I’ll hear about that from him,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Vagabond wasn’t here either,” Geoff replied.

 

“Funny enough, he doesn’t make shitty comments about my personal life,” Ray said.  “Or anything.  Cuz he’s a mute.  Great with a rocket launcher, not so much with words.”  Ryan chuckled quietly.  “Besides, Joel’s age is going to catch up with him in a few years here, and he is not going to have a pretty eternity.  Rye’s gonna be hot forever, look at him.  And he’s smart.”

 

“Okay, whatever, back to business,” Geoff rolled his eyes.  “How do I shoot the guns on this thing?” Geoff indicated the drone Ryan had put back in front of him.

 

“Er… They’re not equipped with weapons,” Ryan said.

 

“What?!”

 

“They’re for recon, why would they need weapons?” Ryan asked.  Ray looked from Ryan, to Geoff, and back to Ryan.

 

“Seems legit,” Ray agreed.

 

“Ryan,” Geoff whined.

 

“He’s right, recon doesn’t mean weapons,” Ray said.

 

“They are equipped with an emergency self-destruct feature, but I’m not telling you how to do it,” Ryan said.

 

“Why not?” Geoff asked.

 

“Because you’ll do it and then blame me,” Ryan replied.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Geoff giggled.

 

“Is it up up down down left right left right b a start?” Ray asked, interestedly.

 

“Yeah, the self-destruct sequence is the Konami code,” Ryan rolled his eyes.

 

“Is it?” Ray asked.

 

“…Yeah,” Ryan admitted.  A small explosion came from next to Geoff and Geoff cheered loudly.  Ryan sighed deeply.  “That’s a quarter of a million dollars of R&D you just blew up.  Was it worth it?”

 

“It was totally worth it.  I’ll get you the money back later.  I want a ton of these!” Geoff exclaimed.  Ryan sighed again and plopped down on the sand next to Ray.

 

“Do you want to do something later?” Ryan asked him quietly.

 

“Is it Mario Party with my ‘new best friend’ Michael, because that’s what I have to do later,” Ray said.

 

“Would me being there make it bearable?” Ryan asked.

 

“You and Michael are good friends, aren’t you?” Ray asked.

 

“We’ve been known to have moments, sure,” Ryan agreed.

 

“That’s still so fucking weird,” Ray laughed.

 

“Why is that weird?” Ryan replied.

 

“You know why it’s weird,” Ray said, knocking his shoulder into Ryan’s playfully.

 

“Hey, lovebirds, quit sucking dicks for a second,” Geoff addressed them, annoyed, as though he’d been trying to get their attention, and had failed multiple times.

 

“Hmm?” Ryan asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Geoff.

 

“Can I have a few of these to go?  I want to show Jack before it gets dark,” Geoff said.

 

“Yeah, sure, take a few,” Ryan said, indicating the box.  “I’ll be headed back to town in a little while.”

 

“Can I stay with you?” Ray asked him.

 

“It’s fine with me,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, yeah, do what you want, I’ll sign the papers anyway,” Geoff sighed.

 

“You’re the best, Geoff,” Ray said.

 

“I’m aware of that,” Geoff grumbled as he picked up a few of his drones and headed back to where they’d parked his car.

 

“I was expecting him to take that much worse, I’ll be honest,” Ryan told Ray.

 

“He could still pop,” Ray reasoned.  Ryan plucked the drone controller from Ray’s hands and took it for himself.  The drone in front of them whirred to life and whizzed into the air immediately.  Ryan clearly had some skill with this.  He propped the tablet displaying the camera up in front of them and Ryan piloted the drone after where Geoff’s supercar was already on its way back to downtown. 

 

“There he goes,” Ryan laughed.

 

“Can you fly it next to his window and freak him out?” Ray asked.

 

“Nah, it doesn’t have the top speed anywhere near the supercars,” Ryan shook his head.  “Someday.  Another ten or twelve million into R&D and we’ll see what I can come up with.”

 

“This is probably going to become a theme, but why didn’t you tell me you were our crew’s weapons developer?” Ray asked.  “And, you know, is there anything else I should know about?”

 

“I’m a man of many masks,” Ryan said.  “And it’s not fair to ask you to keep my secrets.”

 

“Or you don’t trust me,” Ray replied.  Ryan circled the drone back over to them and landed it at their feet.

 

“Of course I trust you,” Ryan said.  “I have to trust you.  That’s the way it is with immortals sometimes.”

 

“It’s weird, though, being immortal, because you know you’ve died before and you’re still here, but like… what if you were really dead the first time and everything since is just your imagination?” Ray asked.  “What if the next time … you don’t come back?  What if that’s just it?”

 

“That’s the gamble, isn’t it?” Ryan replied.  “I don’t know.  All of you guys have been at this immortal game longer than I have.”

 

“Yeah, I guess we have,” Ray admitted.

 

“Can I tell you something and not have it change the way you feel about me?” Ryan asked.  Ray hesitated, but nodded.  “I know a lot of you, especially Michael and Gavin, they die all the time.  They explode, they get shot, however it happens.”  Ray nodded again, not wanting to interrupt what was clearly an emotional story for Ryan.  “I’ve only died the one time.”  Ray stared at him. Sure, he wasn’t reckless, but he knew he’d had at least seven, and he might have been immortal longer than that.  (He could never be sure, but sometimes he thought he remembered being thrown around as a kid, and his mother crying, screaming…)  Ryan stared back at Ray, clearly expecting some kind of a response, but not getting one.  “I… I haven’t had a hard reset, is what I’m trying to say.”

 

“Neither has Griffon,” Ray replied, finally thinking of something to say.

 

“And you can see how messed up she is,” Ryan replied.

 

“Look, buddy, if you thought you weren’t messed up, you’re in for a rude awakening,” Ray snorted.

 

“No, I know I’m messed up, and I know I should just get it over with, but…” Ryan trailed off.

 

“You’re scared,” Ray filled in.  Ryan shrugged and nodded at the same time.

 

“Yes and no,” he said.  “It’s the same thing you were saying, like… what if next time you don’t come back?  But also… what if I’m different?  What if I’m too different?  What if I’m _worse_?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ray said.  “It’s no one’s decision but yours.  But if you wanted my opinion, it’s always going to be don’t do it.”

 

“I can’t do it myself,” Ryan said.  “I’ve tried, I’m too powerful.  I heal too quickly.”

 

“I saw the bullets in the sink,” Ray said.  “I’m not going to do it for you, and neither would Geoff.  Jack or Michael might, if you ask nicely.”

 

“Meg would,” Ryan interrupted.  “I know she would.”

 

“But you don’t want her to,” Ray continued.  Ryan shook his head.

 

“I can’t even imagine what kind of slow process it would be,” Ryan said.  “I’ve walked through explosions unsinged.”

 

“Why the fuck did an image of you in a white suit, lying on white sheets, while Meg stands over you in a long white dress driving a knife directly into your heart come to my mind?” Ray asked.

 

“As aesthetics go, that’s … I mean… yeah,” Ryan finished lamely.  “The hard reset is supposed to make you more human.  That’s what they say, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t know.  I guess I was one of the lucky ones,” Ray said.  “Maybe you should talk to Dr. Burns.”

 

“I already know what he’d say,” Ryan said.  “He’s a hard reset advocate.”

 

“You didn’t give Meg the choice,” Ray pointed out.

 

“She wasn’t Meg anymore,” Ryan said.  “She agrees with me, I did the right thing.”

 

“I’m not trying to harp on it, I still just don’t get it,” Ray said.  “I just want to have some kind of understanding of… what went wrong.  And maybe I am a little afraid of you.  I didn’t know you before.  Are you the same as you were?”

 

“No.”

 

“What’s changed?” Ray asked, honestly curious.  He wanted to help Ryan as much as he could, but Ray would obviously draw the line at killing him.  It was the same reason Geoff would never do the same to Griffon – he loved her too much, and he’d lost too many people.

 

“You have a pretty vivid imagination, right?” Ryan asked, scooting on the ground so that he was face to face with Ray instead of beside him.

 

“I mean, I guess so, I don’t know, I never thought about it,” Ray babbled.

 

“Close your eyes,” Ryan said.  Ray hesitated just long enough for Ryan to say, “I’m not going to hurt you.  I just want to see if I can explain.”  Ray’s eyelids flipped closed and he exhaled more harshly than he’d meant to.  “Imagine the Vagabond.  What do you see?”

 

“A guy in a black skull mask and a leather jacket, holding a rocket launcher.  He’s laughing.  Citizens are fleeing.  A building is in ruins,” Ray described.  Ryan leaned forward mere inches to kiss Ray.  Ray immediately pushed forward, wanting to kiss Ryan for days, but Ryan pulled away from him.

 

“Now imagine Ryan,” Ryan directed.  The scene in Ray’s head changed completely.

 

“I see you.  You’re in your kitchen, cooking something on the stove.  You’re wearing an apron and your glasses, and laughing,” Ray said.  Ryan let out a short sigh and Ray opened his eyes.  Ryan was looking at him with a slight frown.  “What?”

 

“Try to imagine Ryan and the Vagabond in the same place,” Ryan said, trying to describe how he was feeling.  Ray wasn’t sure either.  He tried to imagine Ryan on the street where the Vagabond was on his murder spree, but it was like two images were trying to overlay in his mind.  One was Vagabond destroying the street.  The other was Ryan, smiling, the street completely intact on a sunny day, while innocent people walked obliviously by, going about their day.

 

“I… I can’t,” Ray tried to explain.  “It doesn’t… it doesn’t look right.  There’s two streets… they’re overlaid.  Glitching through each other.”

 

“I guess… I guess that’s close to how I feel,” Ryan said.  “It’s not right.  Each part I play is a different person, and I’ve been at it too long to stop now.”

 

“How do you know that they weren’t always a part of you, though?” Ray asked.  “Even if you never thought about being an immortal or joining a gang, like… Did you never think ‘if they ever diagnose me as terminal, all bets are off.  It’s gonna get real weird’ or something?”

 

“I’m not _insane_ , Ray,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

 

“I think you’re okay,” Ray shrugged.

 

“Thanks, I think you’re okay too,” Ryan grinned.  “It’s starting to get dark.  Shall we head home?”

 

“To your place?” Ray asked.

 

“I thought you had plans with my dear friend Michael,” Ryan said.  He had _that tone_.  Ray hated (secretly loved) that tone.

 

“I hate you,” Ray muttered.

 

“Nah, you don’t,” Ryan grinned.  “Come on, I’ll let you drive.”

 

“Do people not notice you and Vagabond drive the same exact stock of cars, or is everyone we work with a fucking moron?” Ray asked as they approached Ryan’s Zentorno.

 

“No one’s asked about it so far,” Ryan shrugged.  “Keys are in the ignition.”  Ray slid into the driver’s seat with a smirk.  “You should really get a license.”

 

“Why?  I can drive fine,” Ray said, revving the engine before putting the car in drive.

 

“What if you get pulled over?  We wouldn’t want you to get _arrested_!” Ryan exclaimed.  Ray flailed his right arm, trying to punch Ryan, but Ryan dodged it.  “Who knows what would happen to a young boy of color in LSPD lockup these days.”

 

“I really, really hate you,” Ray gritted his teeth, pushing the limits of the conditions of the road and almost flying around a corner.

 

“You don’t,” Ryan teased.

 

“I guess my asshole boyfriend would have to come bail me out,” Ray said.

 

“You think I have bail money?” Ryan asked.

 

“I think you have a mask, a jacket, and a rocket launcher,” Ray replied.  “If that doesn’t say ‘give us the brown one’, I don’t know what would.”

 

“I’m sure Geoff would put on his sharpest suit and come down with the money to get you out,” Ryan assured him.

 

They continued to bicker all the way back to downtown, and Ray pulled the car back into the garage.

 

“Decision time, which mask are you wearing tonight?” Ray asked, putting the car in park and pulling the keys out of the ignition.

 

“Geoff is expecting Ryan the weapons developer guy, is he not?” Ryan replied.

 

“Is Ryan the weapons developer guy ready to be BrownMan’s boyfriend?” Ray asked.  “I’m only wearing one mask, dude.  It’s my face.”

 

“And it’s hideous,” Ryan joked.

 

“Wow, okay,” Ray replied with a snort.  Ryan giggled and Ray leaned over the center console to kiss him.  “Are you sure there’s nothing else I should know before we do this?”

 

“Uh…” Ryan said with a slight frown, thinking.  “Can’t think of anything.  I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and the lads play mario party which I can't imagine was particularly crucial to the plot, but why wouldn't we want this scenario?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, reading fics: why hasn't this been updated in months?  
> me: oh right   
> me: maybe posting something will inspire good karma  
> me: doubtful

Michael was already in the living room with Jeremy when Ray and Ryan walked into the penthouse.  Michael looked over his shoulder from where he sat on the couch, frowned slightly, then accepted the pair of them with a shrug.

 

“We’re not late, are we?” Ray asked.

 

“Nah.  The fuckin Wii needed a system update,” Michael replied.

 

“Where’s Vav?” Ray asked.

 

“I think he’s on the roof with Geoff and Jack.  Something about drones,” Michael said.  “Fuckin useless, don’t even have guns on them.”

 

“Excuse you,” Ryan replied.

 

“Just saying,” Michael shrugged.  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

 

“Ray suggested I tag along,” Ryan replied, heading to the fridge and pulling out a Diet Coke.  “That okay?”

 

“I guess,” Michael shrugged.  “You gonna make my RPGs next?”

 

“As soon as I finish the drones,” Ryan smiled.  Michael frowned.  “You know you don’t sign my paychecks.”  Something suddenly occurred to Ray:  Technically, Ryan had _three_ jobs, and was bringing in bank from at least two of them.  Ray had never thought of himself as a gold digger (though maybe Gavin would disagree), but Ryan must have been loaded.  There was no reason for his apartment to be so small, and that he was only driving a _Zentorno_.  That model was so old, they were practically giving them away now.

 

“Goddamn Ramsey,” Michael muttered.

 

“He pays you too,” Ray reminded him.

 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like him,” Michael replied, tossing Ryan a Wiimote.

 

“What about Gavin?” Jeremy asked.

 

“I like Gavin fine,” Michael said, staring at Jeremy.  Jeremy waved his Wiimote at Michael.  “Oh, yeah, I don’t care.  He snoozed, he losed.”

 

“Lost,” Ryan corrected.

 

“Doesn’t rhyme, asshole,” Michael said.  “Why are you here, anyway?  I have never seen you here before.”

 

“Ray invited me,” Ryan repeated.

 

“How do you know _Ray_?” Michael asked, still confused.

 

“We work together,” Ryan said, as if it was obvious.

 

“Also, we’re dating and shit,” Ray tagged on, because that wasn’t obvious.

 

“Oh,” Michael nodded.

 

“Holy shit,” Jeremy blurted out before he slapped a hand over his mouth.

 

“Chill, it’s not like I brought home Rimmy Tim,” Ray said.

 

“So you’re into older guys, huh?” Michael asked.  Ray turned his head to look at Ryan, sending him a look so very much of ‘I told you so and I hate that I’m right’.

 

“How old do you think I am?” Ryan asked Michael.

 

“Older than Ray,” Michael snorted.  “Seriously, Ray, what are you, like, 18?”

 

“I’m 21!” Ray exclaimed.  Michael laughed.

 

“So, you wanna do boardwalk or the train?” Michael asked.

 

“I don’t care as long as I can be Waluigi,” Ray replied.

 

Geoff, Jack, Gavin, and Griffon all came into the living room at that second.  Geoff and Jack were carrying drones.  Griffon saw everyone in the living room, ruffled Gavin’s hair in a friendly way, and departed down the hall to her and Geoff’s room.  It was so uncommon to see her at all that no one bothered to say anything.  (Griffon was known to jump at even small noises, though she had once again progressed to not carrying weapons around in the house.  Maybe soon she would be able to go on heists again.  Dr. Burns insisted a hard reset would set her right, the only thing she needed since she was 17, but Geoff wasn’t convinced and was still trying anything else he could to help her.)

 

“Hey Ryan,” Jack commented.  “Help yourself to anything in the fridge, okay?”  Ryan nodded, like he was an expected houseguest.  “We’re going out, and I know I’ll be late.  Someone make sure Ray and Jeremy remember to eat.”

 

“We’re not _kids_ , mom,” Ray rolled his eyes.  Jack and Geoff disappeared down the hallway to their (separate) bedrooms, leaving Gavin standing there.  He hadn’t moved at all since they’d walked in, and his hair was a mess from where Griffon had touched it.  “You okay over there, Vav?”

 

“Yeah, top,” Gavin said, snapping out of it.  “What are you guys playing?”

 

“Mario Party,” Michael said.

 

“Ah,” Gavin said, seeing there was already four players in their four player game.

 

“You can have my place if you want it, I hate Nintendo,” Ryan said, offering the Wiimote he was holding to Gavin.  Gavin stepped forward mechanically to take it from him.

 

“Oh, yeah, here, I’ll make room,” Ray said, moving from sitting next to Ryan, to sitting on his lap.  Ryan curled an arm around him to prevent him from falling off and pressed a kiss to Ray’s hair above his ear.  Ray blushed.

 

“Sure.  X-Ray, can I talk to you for a sec?  In private?” Gavin asked.  He looked really concerned about something.  Ray shot a look around at everyone, who looked about as confused as he did.  Michael shrugged.  Ray handed his Wiimote to Ryan and got off his lap, following Gavin to his room.

 

“What’s up?” Ray asked.

 

“How did you meet Ryan?” Gavin asked.

 

“He works for us.  He’s our weapons developer,” Ray said.

 

“I know.  I mentioned him two weeks ago, you had no idea who I was talking about,” Gavin said.

 

“Does it matter?  So we met, and we like each other.  He’s my boyfriend, now.  Problem?” Ray asked with a shrug and no idea why Gavin was being so weird.

 

“Just… Ryan’s… not … not right… no.  Just no,” Gavin said, like he was struggling to tell Ray something without actually tell him.

 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ray asked.  Gavin didn’t know, did he?  He could, maybe.  Maybe he put it together.  Maybe Meg let it slip…

 

“He’s… ugh!” Gavin said, pounding a fist lightly into his own head.  “I swore I wouldn’t say anything…”

 

“Then why are you saying something?” Ray asked.  “Why do you care anyway?  You turned me down for _Michael_ , remember that?”

 

“No!  No, it’s not a jealous thing,” Gavin said, as if it hadn't even crossed his mind to be jealous.  “He’s not who you think he is.”

 

“Is he not?” Ray asked.  Ray stared at Gavin while Gavin clearly struggled with something for several moments.

 

“Please, please, be careful,” Gavin pleaded.

 

“Why?” Ray demanded.

 

“Because he’s the Vagabond!” Gavin exclaimed.  His eyes got very, very wide, and he slapped his hand over his mouth.  “Oh, God, oh god, oh no....”  He descended onto his bed, looking terrified of the words that had just popped out of his mouth.  Ray listened for a moment, making sure no one was headed to their position.

 

“How did you find out?” Ray asked, seriously.

 

“Turney.  _You_ _know_?” Gavin asked.

 

“After the heist on Saturday,” Ray said.  “It was… a shock, but it makes sense.  Not like it bothers me, obviously.  He’s a decent guy.  It’s not like he can kill me if he wanted to.  Not really worried about anything else.”

 

“He _killed_ her,” Gavin said, pointing the hand still holding his Wiimote at the wall of his bedroom, maybe in the direction of the living room.

 

“And he’s killed you before too, what’s the big deal?” Ray asked.  “That’s what you said to me, right?  Don’t take it personally?”

 

“He can still hurt you, even if you won’t die.  Please, _please_ , be careful, Ray,” Gavin said.

 

“You don’t think I can handle myself?” Ray asked.  “Okay, Michael.”  He rolled his eyes with a quick snort.

 

“No, I know, you’re good,” Gavin said.  “I just worry about you.  You’re my little X-Ray.  You’re my brother.”

 

“Thanks,” Ray said.  “I’ll be okay, Vav, I promise.”  Gavin half-smiled, like he was still worried.  “You weren’t anywhere near this concerned when I dated Joel.”

 

“No, I was, I just didn’t tell you,” Gavin admitted.  Ray laughed. 

 

“You’re cute.”  Gavin blushed.  Ray very rarely called Gavin cute anymore.  “Can… Can I ask you something?  About Meg?” Ray asked.  Gavin nodded.  “When- when Ryan killed her… the second time… does she think it was the right thing?  The hard reset thing?”

 

“Probably,” Gavin shrugged.  “I dunno.  Never asked.  You can ask her if you want to.”

 

“Yeah, I kinda figured that was gonna be the answer,” Ray sighed.  “C’mon, they’re waiting for us.”  Ray indicated Gavin should follow him back to the living room.  Michael was bitching about something or other that Ryan seemed to be defending.

 

“No, look.  Grenades still have a fuse, and they explode at a certain time from ignition,” Ryan explained.

 

“I know that, I’m not a moron,” Michael growled.

 

“C4 has a detonator,” Ryan said.  “The math is all off!  The grenade launcher pulls the pin and then launches the grenade, and it explodes either in the air or after it has hit its target.  A rocket launcher ignites the rocket and shoots it so it explodes somewhere else.”  He gestured wildly like a rocket being launched.  “C4 doesn’t _work that way_!  You can’t detonate it before you launch it.”

 

“So put the detonator on a fucking timer, Einstein,” Michael shot back.  Ryan looked like his entire world had just been turned upside down.  “Yeah, I’m not a fucking moron.  I know what I’m talking about.  I’ve been making explosives longer than you have.”

 

“Are we ever gonna play this game?” Ray asked, pushing Ryan from where he was leaning forward to argue, back so he was more suitable for climbing on top of.

 

“Yeah, we were waiting on you assholes,” Michael grumbled.  Ray climbed on Ryan’s lap and kissed him with as much sexiness as he could possibly muster (and leaving Ryan a little short of breath when he pulled away, smirking).

 

“Alright,” Jeremy commented.  He was sat on the floor in front of Michael.  No reason, he just happened to have been sitting there earlier and hadn’t moved since.  The plug for his DS was just short enough that he couldn’t quite sit on the couch and have it plugged in at the same time.  Ray knew the feeling.

 

“Are you gonna make my best friend the RPG he wants?” Ray asked Ryan, one hand still on Ryan’s chest, and a slight pout on his face.  Gavin and Michael’s mouths both dropped open.  Ryan nodded, speechless.  Ray smiled, and settled himself back in Ryan’s lap.

 

“Anyway…” Jeremy said, breaking the silence that had ensued.  Gavin and Michael tore their eyes from Ray and Ryan, returning to the screen.  Gavin plopped his body into the space between Ryan and Michael, leaning on Michael instead of Ryan and Ray.  Michael didn’t say anything about it.  No one really knew what to say.  Ray just smirked.

 

“So, did we decide?  Boardwalk or Train?” Ray asked, his voice sounding normal again.

 

“Boardwalk,” Michael said.  Geoff, Jack, and Griffon (to everyone’s mild surprise) showed back up in the living room then.

 

“Don’t burn down the house again,” Geoff instructed them.

 

“C’mon, boss, that was one time,” Michael and Jeremy both complained at the same time.

 

“Ray?” Griffon said.  Ray turned his head to look at her.  “Be safe, okay?  There’s condoms in our room if you don’t have any.”  Ray was mortified, and tried to disappear into Ryan’s lap.  The three of them left the penthouse, laughing at Ray’s reaction.

 

“Griffon is like that vodka aunt that goes out of her way to embarrass you,” Ray muttered.

 

“I’ve always liked Griff,” Gavin said.

 

“I think I can count on one hand the times I’ve interacted with her,” Ryan said.

 

“She’s getting better,” Gavin assured him.  “Geoff says she might want to help out with a few jobs soon.”

 

“I’ve never done a job with her.  Is she good?” Michael asked.

 

“She’s amazing,” Ray said.

 

“What’s wrong with her?  Why does she need to get better?” Jeremy asked.

 

“We’re not really sure…” Gavin said.  “She’s always been… jumpy?”

 

“She took pills for a long time, and she was better on them,” Ray said.  “That was a long time ago.”

 

“And when she retired, we got Michael,” Gavin finished.

 

“She was never really… dangerous?” Ray mused, looking to Gavin for confirmation.  Gavin nodded.  “Not to us, anyway.  She was deadly on heists.  But she’d never hurt any of us.  And she’s just so… cool.”

 

“How long have you guys been with the Ramseys?” Jeremy asked, in awe.

 

“I was 9 when they brought me here, I think X-Ray was 12?” Gavin said.

 

“Yeah,” Ray nodded.

 

“You’ve been living with the Ramseys since you were 9 years old and you still say shit like ‘a right bugger’s muddle’ and ‘mingey little bimphole’?” Michael asked.

 

"Jebby little jebpiece," Jeremy added.

 

“Sure,” Gavin shrugged.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“It’s like you learned to be British by watching Mary Poppins and listening to DJ Kara on Non Stop Pop FM,” Jeremy said.

 

“That’s bloody offensive, that is,” Gavin retorted.

 

“Okay,” Michael said, even though someday he’d probably let Jeremy fight Gavin just to watch Gavin get his ass _really_ handed to him.

 

They chatterboxed their way through the entire game like Ryan and the Lads had always played games together on that couch in front of that TV in the penthouse living room, when in reality it was the first time it had ever happened.

 

“If Michael gets a bunch of RPGs, I think you should make something for me,” Gavin complained to Ryan.

 

“Yeah?  What do you want, Gav?  Let’s see if we can make this work,” Ryan said.

 

“Can I get a mini gun?  A gold one?  Pretty please?” Gavin whined.

 

“You know you can’t,” Ryan laughed. 

 

“Michael has one,” Gavin frowned.

 

“Vagabond has one,” Jeremy interjected.

 

“We know how to use them without injuring ourselves and our allies,” Michael said.  “Gav, you could probably kill yourself just looking at a mini gun.”

 

“But I’m down there, I’m in the thick of things with you, I think I should have something besides a few pistols,” Gavin said.

 

“Take your checkbook down to Ammunation and buy something from them,” Ray suggested.  “Ry’s not going to just _get you_ a mini gun.  I don’t even have a mini gun.”

 

“You want one?  I can get you one,” Ryan said with a grin.  Gavin looked even more annoyed at that.

 

“Nah, no need,” Ray said.  “If I’m ever on ground support, I’ll let you know.”

 

“You never know, you might be.  If Geoff puts Lil J up in the rafters, you’ll be on the ground with us, kid,” Michael said.

 

“I was expressly told when I got my training that I was not replacing Ray in any way,” Jeremy said.  “If anything, I’ll be part of ground support.”

 

“Maybe I’ll retire and just play video games full time,” Ray said.

 

“Really?” Ryan asked, interested.

 

“Never.”

 

“Sounds boring,” Michael said.  “There’s only so far a video game explosion can go.  It’s nothing like seeing the fire reflected in someone’s eyes and feeling the flames singe your jacket.”

 

“At least in video games, you can’t pick up your co-op partner and _throw him into the epicenter of the explosion, Michael_ ,” Gavin berated.

 

“That seems awfully specific,” Ryan mused.

 

“That only happened, like, three times.  Quit bitching about it,” Michael said.  “You’re the guy who _always_ teamkills your AI.”

 

“They’re getting in the bloody way, aren’t they?” Gavin retorted.  “Have you given any thoughts to your heist plans, X-Ray?”

 

“I completely forgot, to be honest,” Ray replied.

 

“There’s a lot of shoes to fill,” Gavin said.  “By the time it gets to Jeremy, there won’t be any ideas left.”

 

“Just you wait, my guy,” Jeremy promised.  “I know exactly how my heist will go.”

 

“And Jeremy’s just fucking _creative_ ,” Ray complained.  “Everyone knows I’m the least likable of the Ramsey children.”

 

“You’ve got quite the hot date there,” Jeremy replied.

 

“Yeah, but like… Gavin has Meg, and Michael has Lindsay,” Ray said.  “And you have… a few years of growing up to do before you should probably think about getting a girlfriend.”

 

“You can fuck right off, bro,” Jeremy replied.  “I don’t know if that was a height joke or an age joke, but I will fight you.”

 

“Yeah?  You and your army of Voltorbs can stop by any time,” Ray scoffed.

 

“Fight me irl,” Jeremy replied.  Gavin giggled.  “1v1 me.  Outside.  Right now.”

 

“I’m not fighting you outside right now,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Why not?” Gavin asked, a little put out, as if he’d wanted to watch.

 

“Uh, one, because I’d get my shit pushed in, and two, I don’t really want to move?” Ray replied.  “Are we going to eat at any point or are you back on one of your ‘I don’t need to eat, I don’t need to sleep, I’m immortal’ things?”

 

“Oh, right.  Gav, you wanna order the pizza?” Michael asked.

 

“Sure thing, boi,” Gavin replied, pulling his phone out.

 

“The sheer amount of takeout you people eat is disgusting,” Ryan chimed in.

 

“You got a better idea, Ryan?” Gavin asked.

 

“I’m sure there’s something here you could cook,” Ryan said.  “I’m not allowed to get up, or I’d check.”

 

“Well, if you’re not going to get up and make it, none of the four of us are going to,” Michael replied.  “Kind of the idea of Team Lads.”

 

“So you’re accepting your Lad-ness now?” Ray asked.

 

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Michael replied.  “Can’t be a Gent unless you can grow a full beard.  But… who the fuck wants to be a Gent anyway?  Fucking bullshit.  They’re not fun.  At least we know how to have fun.”

 

“Is that really the line?” Jeremy asked.  “Vagabond’s in that fucking mask all the time, how do they know he can grow a beard?”

 

“I can grow a beard,” Gavin said.  “I won’t, because I’m not an animal, but I could.”

 

“I could,” Ray added.

 

“Me too,” Jeremy said.

 

“Fuck you guys,” Michael said.

 

“Fucking Jack could grow a better beard than you, baby face,” Ray laughed.

 

“And I could kick your ass without thinking about it,” Michael retorted, gritting his teeth.  “Shut the fuck up.”

 

“I wish Michael had gone to school with us,” Gavin said, mostly to Ray.  “Wouldn’t it have been fun?”

 

“I think he probably dropped out before we got to high school,” Ray replied.

 

“Fuck you, I graduated high school,” Michael replied.

 

“Really?” Gavin asked, surprised.

 

“You didn’t?” Michael asked.

 

“No!  God, no!  Who needs it?” Gavin asked.

 

“Maybe not you, ya rich fuck,” Michael replied.

 

“I went to college,” Ryan said.

 

“Loser,” Ray snorted. 

 

“I have two college degrees,” Ryan continued.

 

“Virgin,” Ray laughed.

 

“Hey now,” Ryan said, warningly.

 

“Just because you’re a loser and a virgin, don’t project that shit onto other people,” Michael shot at Ray.

 

“Scuse you,” Ray scoffed.  Gavin laughed.

 

“Oh, Gavin, did I tell you the best thing about the drones?” Ryan asked so conversationally it was like he wasn’t deliberately trying to change the subject.

 

“No?”

 

“Oh, you’ll love this,” Ryan grinned.  “I can retrofit them with a high speed camera just for you, and you can get all those angles you always wanted.”  The grin slipped so slowly off Gavin’s face, no one could really tell what he was actually thinking.

 

“Are you serious?” Gavin finally asked.

 

“Of course.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“I… I take back everything bad I ever said about you,” Gavin said, ultimate adoration in his voice and eyes as he looked at Ryan as if he’d never seen him before.

 

“I can slap some gold paint on one too, if you want,” Ryan continued.

 

“I love you,” Gavin blurted.

 

“Hey now,” Ray warned.  “I know he’s cool and stuff, but he’s taken.  You get your own.”

 

“Gavin has Meg, why does he need me?” Ryan laughed.  “But don’t thank me, it was Geoff’s idea.  Said you’d like it if I could do that.”

 

“It’s the dream,” Gavin said softly.  Gavin had more fallen into the crime syndicate than veritably begged to be a part of it.  His true dream had always been to direct films and his love for cinematography had stayed with him.  Gavin had asked Ray, a year or so ago, if Ray thought that Geoff regretted bringing them into the crime life.  After all, it wasn’t their fault they were immortals, or even that they had nowhere else to go.  Ray didn’t know, but every once in a while, he thought maybe he understood why Gavin asked.

 

“You goin legit on us, boi?” Michael asked.

 

“No, never,” Gavin said, looking back at Michael quickly and grinning.  “Just a bit of fun.  If you thought you liked explosions before, wait til you watch one in slow motion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably my favorite thing is the casual 'we work together' whenever someone wonders how Ray and Ryan know each other. Ray is literally known for never leaving the house, to the point where Jack MAKES him spend a certain amount of time outside per week, complete with signed forms. "Of course we know each other, you guys, I know a lot of people, obviously. Ryebread and I have known each other like a week, which is plenty of time to get to know someone."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I've thanked all of you for reading and leaving kudos lately but there are so many??? Thank you so much?? I really can't believe it and I hope you stick with me. I have a lot of fun planned for this ahead of us.
> 
> Sidenote: you know when you're at a part and you're like yeah okay I don't know what happens now but in like four chapters THIS is what's gonna happen? I'm there. Wish me luck please D:

“Where you goin?” Michael bounded up to Ray as Ray shouldered his backpack and got ready to leave the penthouse.

 

“Over to Ryan’s.  He’s fixing Geoff’s laptop, and it should be done today,” Ray said.  “Why do you care?”

 

“Just wondering,” Michael shrugged.  “That’s, uh, that’s cool, you and him.  It’s cool.”

 

“I know it’s cool,” Ray replied, selecting a set of keys from the key rack and heading out the door.

 

“How are you gonna get there?” Michael asked.

 

“Just because, legally, I can’t drive, doesn’t mean I don’t,” Ray said, already hitting the button for the elevator.

 

“I can take you over in my Adder if you want,” Michael offered, following Ray.

 

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Ray said.

 

“You sure?  It’s not a problem,” Michael continued.

 

“No, I’m fine,” Ray repeated.  “Why are you being weird?”

 

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.

 

“Why are you being my best friend?  You’ve spent two years hating me.  I moved out so I wouldn’t have to deal with it, and now, suddenly, after two years, we are best friends?” Ray asked.

 

“Not _best_ friends, like better friends, but not best,” Michael rambled.  Ray rolled his eyes and selected Ryan/Vagabond’s Bati to take the short ride over.  “Did he say you could use that?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Vagapussy,” Michael said.  “That’s his, isn’t it?”

 

“Since I’ve almost died riding on this motorcycle about 9 times, I think that entitles me to use it when I want,” Ray replied.

 

“Alright.  Well.  I’ll see you later, then…” Michael said, getting in his Adder.  Ray gave a sarcastic wave in a ‘why the heck are you still even here’ way and Michael took off.  Fuckin Weirdo.

 

Ray recounted his travels to Ryan as Ryan transferred Geoff’s fortunately recoverable files from his old hard drive to his new one.

 

“Why is that weird?” Ryan asked.

 

“Because Michael and I don’t interact,” Ray exclaimed.  “And if I get back to the penthouse and have to hear him saying something to Geoff like, ‘Ray isn’t pulling his own weight, he spends all his time with his boyfriend, he never does surveillance or stake-outs,’ I’m gonna pop him.”

 

“Ray,” Ryan frowned reprovingly.

 

“He’s immortal, he’ll come back, don’t worry about him,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “I’m sick of him.”

 

“If you want to tag along on some work-related stuff, I’m going out tonight, and I could always use an eye in the sky,” Ryan suggested with a quick shrug.

 

“You do solo stuff?” Ray asked.

 

“Geoff gives me things to do,” Ryan said, nonchalant.  “Sometimes I ask, sometimes I just do things for no reason.  Not really an ask questions kind of guy.”  Ryan had told Ray after the party, before he’d left the penthouse the night before, that maybe if they both stopped referring to the Vagabond in the third person, it would help him mesh his characters in his head.  Ray had agreed that that seemed legit.

 

“And _you_ want _me_ to cover you?  _You_ , who goes through explosions unsinged.  _You_ , who took seven bullets on Saturday and still, I don’t know, _walked_ from downtown to your apartment?” Ray asked, incredulous.

 

“Jacked a car, actually,” Ryan said.  “And most of the bullets actually hit my body armor.  Gotta go with the super heavy.”

 

“Why would you go with anything other than super heavy?” Ray asked.

 

“Exactly,” Ryan agreed.

 

“And on top of all that, I should really be coming up with heist ideas, because I have exactly zero,” Ray lamented.

 

“I can help with that, if you want me to,” Ryan offered.  “I mean, I’ve always thought we should get a better shot at an armored car.”

 

“You mean one that doesn’t end with only the two of us left at the end?” Ray asked.  “Because that’s _every heist_.”

 

“Stuff happens,” Ryan waved one hand to erase the accidental nailing of Geoff in the head with the butt of an assault rifle.  “No, but it never occurred to me that instead of picking it up, we could get in the car and just drive it.”

 

“Interesting,” Ray said.

 

“Drive it to the train tracks, get the money out, hop on the train, ride it all the way around the city, lose the cops somewhere in there…” Ryan continued.  “Don’t fall out of the train and get hit by a phantom porta-potty…”

 

“What?!” Ray asked, concerned.

 

“Oh, right, that was something different,” Ryan said.  The door to the shop dinged as it opened, and there was Meg Turney, in the flesh, looking way hotter than anyone dating _Gavin_ really should look on a daily basis.  Ryan looked up for less than half a second, before turning his attention back to whatever he was doing with the computers.  “Hi, dear.”

 

“Hello,” Meg replied, inviting herself to sit next to Ray on the counter.  “Are we still on for tonight?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said.  “I have a phone, you know.”

 

“I was passing by,” Meg shrugged.  “And I haven’t seen Ray in _ages_.  How are things?”

 

“Fine,” Ray said vaguely.  She raised an eyebrow at him.  “What?  Everything’s fine.  I’m fine, Ryan’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine.  Why are you here?”

 

“Jeez, you sure know how to make a girl feel welcome,” Meg joked.  “Lighten up.”

 

“Sorry, I don’t know how to act around you,” came out of Ray’s mouth before his filter kicked in to stop it and he mentally punched himself.  Meg laughed, so did Ryan.

 

“Gav’s running surveillance for the job tonight,” Meg said to Ryan.  “I’m coming with you.”

 

“I asked Ray to be our eye in the sky,” Ryan replied.

 

“Nice, double date,” Meg grinned.

 

“Yeah, yeah, just be at the Spot, 10pm, don’t be late.  We’re not screwing this up again like last time,” Ryan said.

 

“Of course not,” Meg replied.  “I want this thing as much as you do.”  She hopped off the counter, blew a kiss at Ryan, and left the shop.

 

“Do you know that Gavin knows?” Ray asked, hesitantly.  Ryan stood up from where he’d been leaning over the machine, and gave Ray an almost terrifying glare.

 

“What?”

 

“Gav… knows that you’re… you know….” Ray said vaguely.  Ryan stomped to the door quickly.

 

“Turney!  Get your ass back here!” he shouted down the road.  Meg stopped in her tracks, turned around, but didn’t come any closer.  “Get over here!  Now.”  She stalked back up to him haughtily.

 

“Yes?” she replied, slight anger apparent in her tone.

 

“Would you step back inside my office for a moment?” Ryan asked.  Meg obliged.  The forced politeness of both of them was sickening.  Ryan made sure the door was shut, for all the good that did as it was made of glass, and turned on her.  “What does Gavin know, exactly?  And furthermore, how did he find out?”

 

“C’mon, Ry, it was an accident,” Meg said.  “I didn’t mean for him to find out, and it’s been so long since he’s known, he’ll never tell anyone, I swear.”

 

“He didn’t tell me, well, he didn’t mean to, I kind of pulled it out of him,” Ray admitted.

 

“It was part of the deal,” Ryan said to Meg, ignoring Ray.

 

“It’s too late now, what do you want me to do?” Meg retorted.  “He figured it out.  He’s much smarter than everyone gives him credit for.”

 

“He was worried about me,” Ray interjected again.  “You’re a fucking dangerous guy, Ryan.  Look at you.”  Ryan looked at Ray and backed down from Meg, who, to her credit, had completely stood her ground.  “Lucky for all parties involved, I don’t scare easy.”  Ryan turned back to Meg, and addressed her calmly.

 

“He wasn’t supposed to find out,” Ryan repeated, much more calm and rational this time.

 

“He put two and two together.  I’d be surprised if most people hadn’t by now,” Meg said.  “You’ve been here a year, and he’s known you longer than that.  People pick up on things, Ry, even behind the mask.  A year is way longer than we’ve ever been in one place before.”

 

“We stayed here because of you and Gavin,” Ryan replied.  “Don’t put that on me.  You wanted to stay, and I agreed, because Fake AH is a decent place, they don’t ask questions, and we both can play nice here.  Do you want me to jeopardize everything we’ve worked for by revealing myself at this point?”

 

“I’m not saying you have to quit the double act,” Meg said, putting up her hands in defense.  “Gavin was never supposed to tell anyone he knew.  But the one person he told already knew, because you told Ray.  And you got too close to someone, after years of saying you’d never be close to anyone again.  And it’s really good for you.  Don’t let him scare you off, Ray,” she added.  “Please, not when you’re so good for him.”  Ray wasn’t sure how she could know what was good for Ryan, and if that was him or not, but just nodded dumbly.

 

“No one else knows?  Just Gavin?” Ryan asked them both.

 

“Not that I know of,” Meg said.  Ray shrugged.

 

“I don’t think Michael knows, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ray said.

 

“Michael’s volatile, you’d know if he knew,” Meg said.  “No way he can keep that knowledge inside.”

 

“What about Geoff?” Ryan asked.

 

“He wasn’t anywhere near as concerned to find out we were dating as he would have been if he knew,” Ray replied.  “The only person who might suspect, I’d say maybe Jack.  She’s a lot more observant than anyone really thinks she is, but even she’s been… shall we say distracted?  Lately.  Unless she knew from the get-go, which… she used to be your boss, so maybe she does.”

 

“Jack’s fine, her and I have an understanding,” Ryan said.

 

“Which is?” Ray prompted.

 

“Let’s just say I did her a favor and leave it at that,” Ryan said.

 

“So what you’re trying to say is that about half of our crew actually knows you’re the Vagabond and they pretend not to anyway?” Ray asked.

 

“I really don’t want to get into the logistics of it,” Ryan said, as though he’d readied himself for the fight and was now rethinking that decision and trying to back out.  “As long as Gavin doesn’t tell anyone, it’s fine.”

 

“He’s not going to tell anyone,” Meg said.  “You know him better than that.  Believe it or not, Los Santos’s Golden Boy knows when to keep him mouth shut.”

 

“And you’re trying this whole… mentally regrouping thing anyway, won’t it be kind of… therapeutic to not have to pretend when we’re all out?” Ray asked.

 

“Or it could make me lose my focus,” Ryan said.  “I don’t know.  I’m sorry I threatened you, Meg.  I overreacted, and that’s my bad.  I’ll order you the usual to make up for it.”

 

“You better,” she said with a quick smile as she turned and left again.

 

“I dunno, man, overreaction is a little tame of a word to describe what you did just then,” Ray laughed.

 

“I’m known for my theatrics,” Ryan replied, returning to poring over the computer repair he was attempting.

 

“Is that what you call it?  Theatrics?” Ray joked.  “Man, I thought _Joel_ was a drama queen.”

 

“When you say Joel, do you mean Joel Heyman from the Roosters?” Ryan asked.  Ray nodded.  “Okay.”

 

“Is that a problem?” Ray asked.

 

“No, I was just wondering,” Ryan replied.

 

“Can I tell you something kind of embarrassing, not about Joel, but about, uh, you and me?” Ray asked.

 

“Sure?”

 

“The day I met you as Ryan the IT Guy, one week ago, right here, the only reason I left the house was because Michael and I got into a fight about whether or not the Vagabond was sexy,” Ray said.  Ryan almost snorted, he was laughing so hard.  “I’m dead serious!  I really, really, _really_ wanted to bone you.”

 

“Sexy is not a word I would ever use to describe myself,” Ryan replied.

 

“You’ve got that whole mysterious silent killer thing going on, you know…”

 

“What, you thought maybe you’d fail another conversation starter, and he – I – would fuck you with the mask on?” Ryan asked.

 

“Dude, I was hoping,” Ray agreed, whole-heartedly.  “Not saying that’s still necessarily a deal breaker, cuz I’ll do it.”

 

“Was it your serial attraction to older men that made you want me when you met me?” Ryan joked.

 

“I don’t have – Ryan, seriously,” Ray groaned.  “It’s pure coincidence.  I’ve had other relationships, they just haven’t lasted as long.”

 

“I think I’m entitled to that one joke, since you won’t leave the Meg thing alone,” Ryan said.

 

“You brought the Meg thing on yourself, my guy,” Ray told him.  “She’s so gorgeous.  How does she keep ending up with these really nothing guys like you and Gavin?”  Ryan laughed again, and Ray grinned at him.  “So… do the Ramseys have a sex tape or what?”

 

“By the look of it, they have nothing but sex tapes,” Ryan replied.  Ray laughed.  “Nah, I don’t see any.  If they do, Geoff’s probably smart enough to keep them on an external drive.”  Ray nodded.  “Mostly there’s just music on here, I’m not gonna lie.  That and PC games.”

 

“Well, yeah, even if he had heist stuff, he probably keeps that on an external drive too,” Ray agreed.

 

“You’d think that, but here’s a folder right in the broad daylight marked heists, and another one, things to do, Jesus, Geoff, they’re on your goddamn _desktop_ , at least hide that shit,” Ryan said.

 

“Maybe it’s password protected,” Ray offered in Geoff’s defense.

 

“If it was before, it isn’t now,” Ryan said.  “Someone really needs to talk to him about security.”

 

“If you want to talk security, how about the fact that it’s pretty fuckin easy to just roll up into the penthouse, and most of the time, we don’t even lock the door,” Ray replied.

 

“I lock that door every time I leave,” Ryan said.  “I have never once found it locked when I get there.”

 

“Geoff leaves his keys in his cars, of course he’s not going to lock the house,” Ray said.  “The place is within two blocks of the FIB, the IA, _and_ the LSPD.  Logistically, it’s the safest apartment complex in the city.”

 

“I think the whole crime syndicate being run out of the penthouse thing makes it the most dangerous apartment complex in the city,” Ryan replied.

 

“Nah, that’s your apartment, because you live there,” Ray joked.  “Or, holy shit, you haven’t seen my apartment.”

 

“Where’s your apartment?” Ryan asked.

 

“Over in Little Seoul,” Ray said.  “Geoff wouldn’t let me go any shittier.”

 

“Not the worst neighborhood,” Ryan said, nodding.  “I’m surprised he let you out of downtown.”

 

“It’s like you said, Geoff doesn’t ‘let’ us do things, he just ‘can’t actually stop’ us from doing things,” Ray paraphrased.  “My first contract kill, I was 17 and Geoff was so against me taking it.  ‘Let Gavin do it,’ he said.  ‘Gavin’s a great shot, he’ll get the job done.  You don’t need the money, Ray, I’ll give you as much money as you want.’  But I did it anyway.”

 

“Do you wish you hadn’t?” Ryan asked.  Ray shook his head.

 

“Nope, the guy deserved it,” Ray affirmed.  “Boom, headshot.” He grinned.  “Geoff was so mad, but he figured it out, he couldn’t stop me.” 

 

“I’m surprised you got hired to put a hit on someone who actually deserved it,” Ryan mused.  “That’s pretty rare.”

 

“I don’t want to get into the whole thing, it’s not important,” Ray waved it off.  “What’s our job tonight?”

 

“Standard procedure, capture and interrogate, torture and kill if necessary,” Ryan said.  “Which it won’t be.  This guy’s a pussy.”

 

“Doesn’t sound like a four person job,” Ray said.  Ryan shrugged.

 

“I could definitely handle it myself, but that’s not really fun, is it?” he asked with a grin.

 

“You’re lucky the complete sociopath thing turns me on,” Ray replied.

 

“Yeah, I really have nothing else going for me,” Ryan joked.  He started fiddling with screws in Geoff’s laptop, screwing in the new hard drive and putting the other parts back together (because of _course_ he couldn’t have one of those laptops where the hard drive just easily pops out next to the disk drive, and instead one of those ones where you have to take the whole damn thing apart just to get to it).

 

“Do you have anything else going for you, though?” Ray asked.

 

“Didn’t you think I was a hot dad?  I could buy a sweater vest.  I know you like them,” Ryan said.  (This is what we call a callback to chapter one.)

 

“So, you have, like, three jobs.  Two of which I’m assuming are high paying,” Ray changed the subject immediately.

 

“Sure do,” Ryan agreed.  “What about it?”

 

“Why do you have such a tiny fucking apartment and why the fuck are you only driving a Zentorno?  Even I’ve got a fucking Adder.”

 

“What’s wrong with having a savings account?  I don’t need a better car or a bigger apartment,” Ryan said.

 

“You don’t have kids, what do you need to save for?  It’s not like you’ll ever be hurting for cash,” Ray pointed out.

 

“How do you know I don’t have any kids?” Ryan asked.

 

“Because you told me, and you told me you don’t own any sweater vests either,” Ray reminded him.

 

“I could have been lying,” Ryan replied.

 

“Okay… do you have any kids?” Ray asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Alright, that was pointless,” Ray sighed, leaning back so he was lying on the counter instead of sitting on it.  “You can be really annoying sometimes, you know that?”

 

“Sure can,” Ryan agreed.  “Gotta keep it interesting.  I’ll get a new car when they release one I like.  Not everyone needs to have every single car on the market like Michael and Geoff.  Jack used to be a boss, and she’s still driving an Entity.  Besides, the Zentorno is newer than the Adder, even if it costs less.”

 

“I wouldn’t know, I didn’t buy mine,” Ray shrugged.

 

“Geoff bought you an Adder?” Ryan asked.

 

“No, Geoff won’t buy me or Gav any cars until we get our licenses,” Ray said.  “I stole it.  Obviously.  I’m a criminal, Ryan, what did you expect?”

 

“I’m impressed.  Usually you can’t get away with stealing supercars,” Ryan remarked.

 

“I may have known the person I stole it from,” Ray shrugged again.

 

“So essentially someone let you borrow their Adder and you just never gave it back?” Ryan asked.

 

“If you want to get technical,” Ray deflected.  “Maybe I’m a klepto.  You don’t know.”

 

“Alright, sure,” Ryan agreed with a laugh, tightening the last screw on Geoff’s laptop.  “Let’s make sure this fucker works before Geoff fires us both.”

 

“I might have accidentally told him that you were the one fixing it, and I don’t think he’s going to pay you,” Ray said. 

 

“Oh well,” Ryan said, looking up at Ray for the first time in a few minutes.  “You’re probably worth it.”

 

“…what?” Ray asked confused.

 

“Getting to know you was probably worth about 300 bucks,” Ryan explained.  Ray frowned, trying to decide if he was flattered or annoyed that he was ‘probably’ worth $300.  “Or more,” Ryan added.  “And it works!  Huzzah.”

 

“Sweet, I’ll take it back to Geoff,” Ray said, leaning over to kiss Ryan before scooping up the laptop to shove it in his bag.

 

“Alright, sounds good.  I’ve got some stuff to do before the job tonight.  Do you want to meet me back here later and then we can go to the Spot together?” Ryan asked.

 

“Considering I don’t know where the Spot is or what we’re doing, that sounds ideal,” Ray agreed.  “Do I need anything besides my sniper and my earpiece?”

 

“Consider bringing a light snack.  It can get boring, especially if they won’t talk,” Ryan advised.  “Donuts are good, if you can swing them.”

 

“Sure, I’ll pick up donuts,” Ray said, completely blindsided by this side of Ryan he’s never even fathomed could exist.

 

“Chocolate ones?” Ryan asked, hopefully.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Ray agreed. 

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ryan asked, frowning at Ray, who was staring, very wide eyes at Ryan, like he’d never seen him before.

 

“I’m just wondering why no one ever thought to offer you chocolate donuts before,” Ray said, shaking his head slightly and blinking to stop staring.

 

“Where do you think all the pre-heist donuts go?” Ryan asked.

 

“There are pre-heist donuts?” Ray asked.

 

“Michael always gets something baked and yummy.”

 

“Why do I know _fucking nothing_ about the crew I goddamn live with?” Ray half shouted in annoyance.  “First I had no fucking idea you were a weapons developer, then I find out I’ve been missing out on donuts for two years?”

 

“Did you know about the post-heist tacos?” Ryan asked.  Ray sighed heavily and just left Ryan’s shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I straight up didn't proof this because it's late and i'm tired and I'm trying to write the next chapter and it's not happening.
> 
> Next time: turnfree/raywood double date/interrogation


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meg and gav join our heroes, ray and ryan, on the most boring job they've probably ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've written like four chapters since the last time i updated so that's a thing.

When Ray got back to Ryan’s apartment later than night, way too early, Ryan was not readily greeting him when he walked in.  Ray frowned around the apartment.  The lights were on.  There was a noise, maybe running water(?), coming from somewhere, but it could have been the neighbors.  Ray walked into the kitchen and looked around, no Ryan, no Meg, no anybody.  Ray shrugged it off and dropped the box of donuts on the table.  Ryan had probably just gone down to the shop for a second and he’d be right back.

 

_You’re just too good to be true  
Can’t take my eyes off of you_

 

Singing.  Pretty faint, but definitely singing.  Oh, idiot.  Ray nearly punched himself in the head.  Running water.  Ryan was in the shower and Ray was the biggest idiot on the planet.

 

_You’d be like to heaven to touch  
I want to hold you so much_

 

Ray had never heard Ryan sing.  Why would he have?  He didn’t seem terrible.  It wasn’t your usual caliber of shower singing.  To be fair, Ray was used to the crew breaking into terrible offkey songs every five minutes, so something even halfway decent sounded beautiful.

 

_At long last love has arrived  
And I thank God I’m alive_

 

Ray suddenly realized the reason he could hear the singing was because the water had turned off.  Oh Boy did Ray wish he was anywhere else at that Exact Second.  A half-naked Ryan Danger Haywood was about to walk right by where Ray was standing and he was Very Not Ready for it.  As a side note, he decided Ryan’s middle name was probably not Danger, but something more like Murder.  Or, more realistically, something completely normal, like Michael.

 

_You’re just too good to be true  
Can’t take my eyes off of you_

 

Ray gave the song itself a solid C+.  Nothing too spectacular, especially since he didn’t know the song.  He was more concerned with what he was going to say when Ryan realized he was there, standing in his kitchen, next to a box of donuts.

 

_I’m not sure of the words_  
I think there’s a second verse  
Who gives a fuck  
Something something fuck…

 

Ray cracked up.  There were reasons to like Ryan, like he was _hot_ or like he was nice and knew how to make drones, but Jesus Christ, he was funny.  Ray heard the bathroom door open, and Ryan’s singing got louder as he egressed the bathroom.

 

“I love you baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you baby, to warm a lonely night.  I love you baby, trust in me when I say,” Ryan sang, spotting Ray in the kitchen and walking towards him instead of into the bedroom.  “Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray. Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay, and let me love you, baby. Let me love you.”  Ray was frozen in place from the sight and the singing, so when Ryan kissed him, it took longer than a few seconds for him to come back to life and remember that this guy was his _actual boyfriend_ and not some guy he wasn’t allowed to touch.  Ryan pulled back with a grin.  “You’re early.”

 

“I, um… yeah,” Ray agreed.  “Yes, I am.  You’re wearing a towel.”

 

“I know.  My apologies, I know I’m hideous.  I’ll get dressed,” Ryan laughed.

 

“Yeah… sure…” Ray said without really processing anything.  Ryan retreated into his bedroom and closed the door.  Ray nearly punched himself for the second time in ten minutes.  Ryan was his _actual boyfriend_ and he was allowed to think he looked good in a towel.  “I mean… you don’t have to get dressed…” Ray called lamely at the closed door in the world’s most awkward afterthought.  Ray heard Ryan laugh in the other room.  The door opened, and Ryan was standing there in nothing but his boxer briefs.  (MeUndies!  It’s easy to sell out when your asshole feels so good! – Michael Jones, 2017.)

 

“I _don’t_ have to get dressed?” Ryan repeated, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame.  “I’m not going to an interrogation in my undies, Ray.”

 

“You don’t have to get dressed right now,” Ray continued, trying to be smooth.  He knew how to be smooth.  He’d done this before.  He wasn’t 12 or a fucking virgin.  He was supposed to know what he was doing.

 

“Yeah?  Did you have something in mind?” Ryan asked, as if he was going to indulge Ray in whatever might pop out of Ray’s mouth.

 

“You know, this is a really great time for my brain to stop working, I’ll see you later,” Ray said, starting in the direction of the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Ryan laughed.

 

“To play in traffic because I’m an embarrassment to society,” Ray replied.

 

“Hey, come back here,” Ryan said.  “You’re not an embarrassment.  I like you, remember?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ray grumbled, turning around before he got to the door.

 

“You’ve even seen me in my underwear before,” Ryan remarked as he returned to his closet and selected a pair of jeans.

 

“I wasn’t really paying attention, it was kinda dark, I was focused on something else… you know how it is,” Ray replied.

 

“Are you saying you’re a lights-on sort of guy?” Ryan asked, somewhat amused by the whole conversation.

 

“That doesn’t really matter,” Ray said.  “Why… are we talking about this?”

 

“You brought it up.”

 

“Great.  Can I rewind like ten minutes and start over?” Ray asked.

 

“If you really want to, sure,” Ryan agreed.  “Or we could fool around for 20 minutes, it’s really your call.”

 

“You drive a tough bargain, Ryan Murder Haywood,” Ray said, unzipping his hoodie and throwing it in the direction of where he’d left his rifle sitting on the table with the donuts.

 

“Murder?  Is that my middle name?” Ryan asked, dropping the shirt he’d been considering putting on.

 

“It’s more fitting than Danger,” Ray replied.

 

“I’ll take it,” Ryan said.  “You’re a good salesman, Ray Trouble Narvaez Jr.”

 

“My middle name is Trouble?” Ray asked, a little put out.  Ryan laughed and kissed him.

 

**

 

“Finally,” Meg laughed when Ryan and Ray popped out of the black and green Zentorno at the Spot, a few minutes after 10.

 

“Yeah, well, we’re here, aren’t we?” Ryan replied.

 

“Barely,” Meg replied.  Ryan put his earpiece on and Ray followed suit.

 

“You’re damn lucky the bastard hasn’t moved,” Gavin said in their ears.

 

“Hey, Gav, how’s it going?” Ray asked with a smile.

 

“Could be worse,” Gavin responded irritably.  “Does Geoff know you’re here?”

 

“Hell no,” Ray laughed.

 

“Thought not, somehow,” Gavin said.

 

“Why?  Are you going to get me in trouble with Geoff?” Ryan asked Ray.  Gavin laughed.

 

“X-Ray can handle himself,” Gavin told him.  “Won’t be the first time we’ve gone behind Geoff’s back.”

 

“We stole an ATM once,” Ray said.  “Gav’s idea.”

 

“It did work, though,” Gavin admitted.

 

“Yeah, and almost got me kicked out of high school,” Ray added.  Gavin laughed again.  Ray grinned.  “Where’s my post at?”

 

“You’ll be in the rafters of the warehouse,” Meg said.  “A little place on the fringe of the Ramsey Syndicate.”

 

“It’s 636, you know what to do,” Gavin said.  Ray nodded.

 

The interrogation was boring enough to watch from the rafters back at 636.  It was the same routine he’d done for Geoff and Jack back in the day, when he was 16 and Geoff barely allowed him out to do anything interesting.  Ryan and Meg’s partnership was very different to that of Geoff and Jack’s.  Meg was so different in the field than she was just hanging out with Gavin.  She was tough and almost cruel, and for a moment Ray thought maybe he could actually picture her and Ryan as a couple – something he’d been blocking out for the most part.

 

Gavin would slip them more information about their captive through their earpieces, but it seemed like he was willing to tell them anything they wanted to know in exchange for immunity – which Ryan promised him.  Ray knew enough to know he was lying.  There was no way they would let him walk free after this.  He knew too much to begin with.

 

Ryan was right, though, the guy was a total wuss, and told them everything as soon as a knife was even hinted at.

 

“Alright, we’ve got what we need,” Gavin said.  “Get rid of him and get out.”

 

“You’re really going to kill him?” Meg asked.  Ryan looked from her, to the guy in the chair, who looked terrified of the knife Ryan had pulled and Meg’s words.

 

“He knows too much,” Gavin insisted.

 

“Fine,” Ryan muttered, sheathing his knife.  “Murder break.”

 

“X-Ray, take him out,” Gavin said in their ears.

 

“I’ve got the shot, if you’re sure,” Ray said, looking through his scope.

 

“Take it.”

 

“Don’t do it,” Meg said.

 

“Take the shot, X-Ray,” Gavin repeated.

 

“No!” Meg insisted.

 

“Ryan?  Come on, man, be the tie breaker here.  Do I shoot the guy or not?” Ray asked, teeth gritted.  Meg shook her head and stormed out of the warehouse.

 

“Take the shot,” Ryan said quietly.  Ray instantly pulled the trigger.  “Alright.  Ray, get down from there and get the car running.  I’ll dump the body.  Gav, we’ll see you later.”

 

“Copy that, over and out,” Gavin replied.  Ryan took his earpiece out and looked up to the rafters where Ray was quickly parkouring his way down.  Outside an engine came to life and a car raced away from their location.

 

“I’m going to pay for that in some unsubtle way later,” Ryan sighed, pulling his mask off.  The red and white face paint underneath surprised Ray as he joined Ryan in the center of the warehouse.

 

“Why are you wearing facepaint under a mask?” Ray asked.

 

“In case the mask comes off,” Ryan replied.  “I usually do.”

 

“I like it, it’s badass,” Ray smiled, reaching up to run two fingers down one of Ryan’s cheeks.

 

“Good, I’ll leave it on for later.  Go get the engine running, kid, we’re gonna have cops on this place in a few minutes,” Ryan said.

 

“Don’t call me kid,” Ray frowned as he headed for the door.

 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Ryan amended.  Ray giggled, in a way very unfitting for a criminal who had just shot a man straight through the head.

 

“X-Ray, your ears are still on,” Gavin’s voice floated into Ray’s ear as he started the Zentorno.

 

“Yeah?  What of it?” Ray replied.

 

“You did a good job,” Gavin told him.  “I knew you would.”

 

“Thanks?  It’s not my first rodeo,” Ray said.

 

“No, I know,” Gavin said.  “You’re just… you’re my little X-Ray, you know?  I worry about you.”

 

“Worry not, my dude,” Ray replied.  “I am better than I’ve ever been, and I am going to get laid tonight.  Brown Out.”  He could just hear Gavin wishing him good luck as he took out his earpiece and turned it off.

 

Ryan came sprinting up to the car, almost pulling the door off in an attempt to get in.

 

“Let’s go, let’s go!  The cops are coming!” Ryan nearly yelled, and Ray stepped on the gas.  The warehouse district in South Los Santos was not ideal for losing cops, not with only one way in and one way out.  The fortunate thing was it was miles from Ryan’s apartment up in Vinewood, so it gave them plenty of time to lose the heat.  “Yeah, circle around by Del Perro, then head up to my place.  We should be clear by then.”

 

“What if they’re still on us?  We can’t compromise your apartment,” Ray said.

 

“What are you suggesting?” Ryan asked as Ray pulled a hard right and headed from Vespucci down to Del Perro.

 

“We could crash at my place,” Ray suggested.  Ryan looked at him for a moment.

 

“Will my baby be safe in your garage?” Ryan asked.

 

“No one’s stolen my Adder yet, so I assume so,” Ray replied.  “Or we could go to the penthouse, but they’d never leave us alone.”

 

“Alright, let’s do it,” Ryan agreed.

 

Ray hadn’t been to his apartment in at least two weeks.  He didn’t go there often anymore, and he was considering getting rid of it, but he was still a little worried that this whole thing with Ryan was going to go belly up, and he wouldn’t want to show his face in the penthouse.

 

“Holy shit,” Ryan commented as Ray kicked the door open to his apartment.  “You actually live here?”

 

“I maintain residency here.  I’ve never lived here,” Ray said, waving his hands to clear the air of the settling dust and residual smoke seeping through the carpet and walls from the surrounding apartments.  “It’s not too bad, really.  If you’re hungry, I think we’ll have to order.”

 

“Do you own any soap?” Ryan asked.

 

“Probably,” Ray shrugged.  “I’ve showered here before.  I’m sure I had soap then.  Someone could have broken in and stolen my soap since then, I guess.”

 

“I need a shower, but you can take one first if you want,” Ryan said.

 

“You’ve got blood on you.  You can definitely have it,” Ray said.  Ryan nodded and immediately headed off to the shower.  Ray looked through his cupboards, finding nothing, of course, then threw all the rotting leftovers from the fridge into a trash bag and took it down to the dumpster.  Ryan was still in the shower, so Ray took it on himself to order takeout.  Finally Ryan came walking into the living room, dripping slightly, covered in the only three towels Ray had (that he’d stolen from the penthouse).

 

“Food?” Ryan asked.

 

“It’s on its way,” Ray said.  Ryan nodded.  There was something off about him, Ray could tell.  He wasn’t used to being, well, _Ryan_ when he was on a job like that, and he wasn’t wearing it well.  “You gonna be okay Ry?”  Ryan shrugged wordlessly and sat down on the couch.  “Anything I can do?”  Ryan lifted his arm in the indication Ray could come sit next to him and lean on his shoulder.  Ray unzipped his hoodie and threw it to the floor for the second time that evening and plopped down on the couch next to Ryan.

 

“How do you do it?” Ryan asked quietly, pulling Ray close to him.  Ray nudged his head into the crook of Ryan’s neck.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Pull the trigger on command,” Ryan said.

 

“That’s my job,” Ray replied.  “You do it, you’ve done it.  More than I have, for sure.”

 

“The more I think about it, the more I want to try the hard reset,” Ryan said slowly.  Ray made a noncommittal noise.  “But I don’t want to lose my job.”

 

“Yes, the Vagabond is a valuable asset to Fake AH, but I care about Ryan,” Ray said carefully.

 

“But if I did the reset, there’s a chance that I might be either Ryan or the Vagabond, and not both,” Ryan replied.

 

“Wouldn’t that be better for you as a person, though?” Ray asked.

 

“I thought you weren’t a reset advocate,” Ryan said with a frown.

 

“I’m not, but it’s your choice, and I’ll support it, whatever it is,” Ray said.

 

“You didn’t have to take the shot tonight,” Ryan said.

 

“It’s my job,” Ray repeated.

 

“It doesn’t have to be,” Ryan said.

 

“But it is.  We went over this, Ryan.  Remember, Gavin’s my shoulder angel?”

 

“But Ray–”

 

“I’m not innocent, I’m not a kid, you’re not my dad, and neither is Geoff,” Ray argued.  “I shoot people.  They die.  I got over it.  You’re my boyfriend, Ryan.  We’re in this together, this gang shit we do.  We do it, and our friends do it, and Gavin and Meg do it, and we’ll do it until we don’t do it anymore, and then we’ll retire and do something else.”

 

“And when will that be?” Ryan asked.

 

“When we’re done,” Ray replied.

 

“And when is that?”

 

“Any fucking day now,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “You want out so bad, we can do it.  Geoff doesn’t need us.  He’s got Michael and Jeremy.”

 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Ryan said.

 

“You didn’t,” Ray said.

 

“We’re not even that serious, we’ve only been together a week!” Ryan exclaimed.

 

“Oh, okay,” Ray said, pulling away from Ryan’s body to sit up and stare at him.  “I thought we were doing serious.  We’ve known each other for over a fucking year, or at least you’ve known me that long!  I’m still apparently learning shit about you.”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Ryan said quickly.  “I just meant – if I’m not some kind of terrifying amalgamation of man and monster anymore, if I wasn’t like I am, if I couldn’t do this work anymore–”

 

“If I can do it, you can do it,” Ray said.

 

“But if I didn’t enjoy it anymore,” Ryan insisted.

 

“Then you keep making weapons and you make yourself happy,” Ray said.  “We work together now and that’s great, but anyone could see there are some pretty obvious reasons that’s a terrible idea.  Yeah, we’re immortals, but we’re both idiots, and I can see one of us losing our shit if the other one of us went down.”

 

“You really think I’m that unchill?” Ryan asked.

 

“I’m more concerned about me,” Ray laughed, turning towards Ryan and leaning on him so they were face to face.  “Dude, listen.  You’re wearing three towels and sitting on my couch.  There’s only so long I want to talk about work and the boring inevitability of human mortality.”

 

“I knew it.  You only want me for my body,” Ryan joked, feigning upset.

 

“I’ll be honest, it’s one of the major high points of the relationship,” Ray smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: lads heist!! 
> 
> also i didn't proof this in the interest of just letting you have it.
> 
> my mom said to me 'but they don't know where the Spot is? Is that the joke?' .... no mom it's clearly a reference to on the spot... thanks...
> 
> note to self: remember to have ryan tell ray his middle name is actually... Ryan...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LLLLLLLLLLLADS HEIST!!! (with appearances by ryan, meg, and matt bragg)

“Why are we doing this?” Ray sighed.

 

“Jeremy needs hands on training.  Geoff wants us to take him out on a few jobs,” Michael said.

 

“LADS HEIST!” Gavin shouted.

 

“Heist, heist, heist, heist, heist, heist!” Jeremy and Michael chanted to the tune of Shots (LMFAO ft. Lil Jon).  Gavin joined in on the second round and Ray did as well, with as much if not more fervor.

 

“Okay, lads heist,” Ray agreed with a grin.  “Been a while since we did four man jobs, what are we thinking?”

 

“We need to run a bunch of different shit, because Lil J, here, needs to be cross-trained in _everything_ ,” Michael said.

 

“I can do some stuff, you know,” Jeremy argued.

 

“Matt helped me get together a bunch of low-stakes heists that the B-team was going to handle,” Gavin interrupted him.  “He’s going to be our eyes and ears, not that we’ll need them, because _we_ are pros.”

 

“Very pro,” Michael added.

 

“Yeah, I’ve heard this before,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “So, what, we all spend a few hours teaching him the tools of the trade for our own jobs, then we see if he can do it on a dry run?”

 

“Basically,” Michael nodded.  “You’ll be sniping, I’m demo, and Gav’s frontman.  He can already fly and drive, the Roosters taught him that.”

 

“You were with the Roosters?” Ray asked Jeremy.

 

“Not everyone comes up to the first string from the old Pattillo crew,” Gavin said.  “Plus, the Roosters know Geoff adopts kids.”

 

“I was almost legal when I moved in here,” Jeremy frowned.

 

“Did you finish high school?” Ray asked.

 

“Of course!” Jeremy replied, affronted.

 

“It is strange, the smartest guy in the room is the only one who didn’t get a diploma,” Gavin snipped.  Ray and Michael both aimed smacks at him at the same time and Gavin only managed to dodge one.

 

“If you’re so smart, Gav, why don’t you plan the first heist?” Michael proposed.  Ray caught Michael’s eye and they both laughed.  Gavin was not amused.  Jeremy was confused.

 

“Why is that funny?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Gavin’s Official Heist was pretty much a train wreck,” Michael said.

 

“Technically it was a tanker wreck,” Ray corrected.  He and Michael laughed again.

 

“You got the money, didn’t you?” Gavin was still not amused.

 

“Yeah, after Vagabond and I fought off every cop in the tristate area,” Ray laughed.  He almost continued it with _‘it’s a wonder we didn’t start banging sooner, considering’_ but bit his tongue halfway through the first word, remembering the mixed company.  Gavin seemed to read Ray’s unspoken joke off his face anyway, though he still didn’t laugh.

 

“That’s rich, coming from someone who hasn’t felt the _pressure_ of planning a heist yet,” Gavin retorted.

 

“You’re right, Gav.  I’ll absolutely take this.  What’s the job?” Ray asked.

 

“Our first job is,” Gavin began, slapping a piece of paper to the white board in the conference room, “intelligence.”

 

“That’s not a four person job,” Ray and Michael said pretty much at the same time, shaking their heads.

 

“It’s a _training exercise_ , you smegging idiots,” Gavin said, exasperated.

 

“Stealing files and shit?  I can do that with my eyes closed,” Jeremy said.

 

“You can get in and out of there without being caught?” Michael asked.

 

“Gav and I did that job when we were babies,” Ray scoffed.

 

“Only time X-Ray has had to seduce a guard,” Gavin reminded him.

 

“Ugh,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “He wasn’t even cute.”

 

“I believe you described him as 'kind of a pedophile',” Gavin added.  Ray shuddered.

 

“Why couldn’t you just run along the roof and go in this window?” Michael asked, examining the plans.

 

“That was the plan, but someone had to go and trip over his own dumb feet,” Ray shot at Gavin.  “I got in and out while he was waiting for his broken bones to heal.”

 

“Slow healer?” Michael asked Gavin.

 

“Not really,” Gavin said lamely with a shrug.  “It was maybe 15 minutes.”

 

“And I had to listen to him bitch about it the whole time,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Looks simple enough,” Jeremy said, also looking at the plans of the building.

 

“When we did it, we were looking for physical information,” Gavin continued.

 

“Rustling around in filing cabinets is so 2000s,” Ray threw out.

 

“We’ll send you in with a blank drive that I’ve put a virus onto.  Once connected to the mainframe, the virus will root out the specific files, copy them to disc, then delete all trace of them from the mainframe,” Gavin said.

 

“Three minutes, tops,” Ray guessed.  Gavin nodded.  “Whose records are we erasing this time?”

 

“None of your business,” Gavin replied.  Ray frowned at him, because his mind went immediately to Ryan and any kind of police record he might have, though he was almost positive that wasn't the case.

 

“Lil J already knows parkour,” Ray said.  “What are we teaching him from this, exactly?”

 

“Uhh…” Michael faltered, looking to Gavin, but he was just as blank.  “Responsibility.”

 

“Uh huh,” Ray said skeptically.

 

“The thing is, it’s different from when you and I did it last,” Gavin said.

 

“Oh it is, is it?” Ray asked, bored of the situation already.

 

“Right, because the mainframe in question isn’t accessible from the LSPD offices,” Gavin said.

 

“I’m sure it is, but we’ll pretend it isn’t,” Ray interjected.

 

“This job will involve undercover work,” Gavin said.

 

“Undercover work?” Jeremy repeated.

 

“Michael, you’re the driver,” Gavin instructed, slapping up a picture of a nice looking yet nondescript black vehicle.  “You’ll need something besides your usual jacket, maybe a sports coat or a vest.”

 

“There’s no possible way this can go horribly,” Michael rolled his eyes.

 

“X-Ray, you’re on lookout on the roof,” Gavin said, slapping up a picture of the roof in question.

 

“Of course, no one will notice a sniper on the roof of the city hall adjunct,” Ray said sarcastically.  “I’ll blend in with the gargoyles.  Shoutout to Gargoyles the TV show.”

 

“Jeremy and I will be posing as invitees to the gala being held here,” Gavin announced, slapping up his last picture, of the outdoor area near the city hall adjunct where the so-called gala was being held.

 

“Question,” Michael said, raising his hand.

 

“Yes, Michael?” Gavin asked.

 

“Isn’t that the fancy rich people thing that they hold every year that Geoff always says he’s going to get around to attending one of these days?” Michael asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you two are going to attend this together?” Michael asked.

 

“Is there a problem?”

 

“Well, first of all, you have a fucking smoking hot badass girlfriend who’d be 90 times more suited to be your partner than Jeremy,” Michael began.  “Secondly, I have a smoking hot badass wife who’d be my choice for a partner.  Geoff and Jack could go together if it’s that important.”

 

“You and Geoff have made yourselves too public, you’ll be spotted in a second at City Hall,” Gavin said.

 

“And you won’t be?” Michael snorted.  “Los Santos’s Golden Boy?”

 

“If it’s going to be us, and it’s going to be lowkey, it has to be me,” Ray said with a sigh.

 

“No one would ever think you two were anything other than kids,” Michael scoffed.  “Jeremy has green hair.”

 

“I’ll wear a hat,” Jeremy suggested.

 

“I’ll get a suit,” Ray said.  “It has to be us.  You’re both right, you’re both too well known around Los Santos.”

 

“But… you don’t even have a team name,” Gavin protested.

 

“Who cares?” Ray said.  “We’ll come up with one.”

 

“Team Barely Worked Together,” Jeremy suggested.

 

“Team Snipers,” Gavin said.

 

“Team Smalls,” Michael said.

 

“Smols,” Gavin corrected.

 

“Smol?” Jeremy asked.  “What the fuck does that mean?”

 

“Fight me,” Ray deadpanned.

 

“The smols will infiltrate the gala and connect to the mainframe with the virus drive,” Gavin continued as if Jeremy and Ray hadn’t interrupted.  “I’ll be cover fire, Michael will still be driver.”

 

“Sounds decent,” Michael agreed.  “When is this?”

 

“It’s Wednesday night,” Gavin said.

 

“That’s only three days from now!” Ray exclaimed.

 

“The only prep you need is a suit,” Gavin countered.

 

“I have to mentally prepare for social situations,” Ray sighed.

 

“Well, do it,” Michael advised.

 

“Do we have a getaway plan for when everything inevitably goes to shit?” Ray asked.

 

“Run like hell,” Gavin advised.

 

“Oh, okay, same as always, got it,” Ray nodded.  “I almost want to apologize to Lil J.  Heisting with us must be just the worst compared to heisting with the Roosters.”

 

“The Roosters are shit,” Jeremy said.  “Their heist room is a white board with a checklist:  Map.  Four to seven assholes.  Plan.”

 

“Oh,” Ray said.

 

“Of course the Roosters are shit,” Michael scoffed.  “Have you seen them in action?”

 

“Not actually, no,” Ray admitted.  Gavin shook his head.

 

“Garbage,” Michael laughed.  Ray didn’t feel like getting into that argument today, and neither, apparently, did Gavin, so the subject was dropped.

 

**

 

“What are you doing Wednesday night?” Ryan asked Ray.

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.  I have to go to this gala thing with Jeremy for work,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“The one at city hall?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, why?  Have you heard of it?  Am I going to be bored off my tits?” Ray asked.

 

“Probably,” Ryan admitted.  “No, I, uh, I was invited.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, Meg and I have gone every year,” Ryan said.

 

“Enjoy that.  Try to have fun.  I won’t be,” Ray said.  “I hate crowds.  People.”

 

“I was going to ask you to come with me,” Ryan said.

 

“Oh!” Ray said, surprised.  “I’d love to, but I can’t.”

 

“You just said you didn’t want to go,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“I’d go with you,” Ray said, nudging Ryan playfully.  Ryan faked injury and Ray took the opportunity to kill his character in the game they were playing.

 

“Bastard,” Ryan swore, respawning and heading back for justice.

 

“Just admit I’m the better gamer and this can all go away,” Ray said.

 

“Geoff needed someone to sneak into the gala for a job and instead of sending people who actually look like adults, he’s sending you and Lil J?” Ryan asked.

 

“It’s for Jeremy’s training,” Ray sighed.  “I suggested we go as one person in a long trenchcoat, but that didn’t fly with Gavin ‘I have a very specific aesthetic for every heist’ Free.”

 

“What is this heist’s aesthetic, then?” Ryan asked.

 

“I don’t know, something stupid, obviously, because two people pretending to be one person in a long trenchcoat doesn't fit,” Ray said.  He was quiet for a moment as he punched buttons on his controller.  “I have to go buy a suit.  Shoutout to Ponsonby’s.  Only not, because fuck them.”

 

“You don’t own a suit?” Ryan asked.

 

“Why the fuck would I own a suit?” Ray responded.  Ryan made a noise like ‘you got me there’ and rapidly mashed buttons trying to dodge out of the way of the grenade Ray’s character had thrown, but to no avail.  “I have a shirt with a picture of a suit on it.”

 

“So you and Lil J are going to get real grown-up suits to infiltrate the gala?” Ryan continued, clearly trying to distract Ray long enough to get a kill, but Ray was not one to be distracted.

 

“Yeah, black suits, white shirts, those skinny black ties, the whole shebang,” Ray rambled.  “And it’s dumb because I sort of volunteered to do it.”

 

“Why would you do that?”

 

“Oh, because I’m an idiot, Ryan, didn’t you know?” Ray said sarcastically.  “Gavin attracts attention and Michael would be spotted immediately.”

 

“Meg and I will be there, so if you run into any trouble, we’ll have your backs,” Ryan said.

 

“Are you like best friends with the mayor or something?” Ray asked.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“I can’t figure out why you’d be invited to the dumb rich people gala,” Ray said, deftly dodging an explosion and throwing another grenade.

 

“I may have invested in friendship with one of the deputies at the LSPD,” Ryan said nonchalantly.  “We have lunch every few months.  It helps remind him I’m definitely not the most wanted – God _DAMMIT_ Ray!”  Ray had shot him as he’d dodged the grenade.

 

“Concede the bet and we can go to bed,” Ray said.

 

“Fine,” Ryan sighed.  “You’re the better gamer.”

 

“Thank you,” Ray said, immediately shutting off the console and the television.  He set down his controller and got up, looking at Ryan and wondering why he hadn’t moved.  Ray made a gesture with his hands as if to say ‘we are moving to the bedroom now’ and Ryan set down his controller with a yawn.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Ryan agreed, standing up and stretching.

 

“Faster?” Ray was bouncing up and down in impatience.

 

“Patience, young one,” Ryan replied, yawning again.  “I’m worth the wait.”

 

“Pff,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“If you disagree, you can sleep in your own bed,” Ryan told him.

 

“No, I’d definitely rather wait,” Ray said immediately.  “Jesus, hurry up old man.”  Ryan stopped stretching all at once and grabbed Ray, throwing him over his shoulder quickly.  Ray screamed in surprise, nothing manly, and did little kicky feet all the way into the bedroom until Ryan tossed him down on the bed.  “Jesus Christ!”

 

“Who’s old now?” Ryan challenged, shucking his jeans off as Ray pulled his own t-shirt off over his head quickly.

 

“Still you,” Ray teased.

 

**

 

“This is the fucking dumbest thing I’ve ever worn,” Ray complained as Meg tied his tie for him and tucked it into his jacket.  Meg's hair and makeup were done for the gala, but Ray suspected she wasn't going to wear the sweatpants she had on at that moment.

 

“You look great,” Meg reassured him.  “Ryan almost creamed his pants and walked straight into the mailbox and you didn’t even have your tie on yet.”

 

“I feel stupid as hell,” Ray continued, rolling his shoulders, trying to get comfortable.

 

“ _You_ feel stupid?  You should have seen me getting fitted,” Jeremy told him.  “The first four jackets they gave me came down to my knees.”

 

“Jeremy, that’s an exaggeration, Jeremy,” Gavin’s voice was in their ears.  “You both look great.  How are we doing on time, Matt Bragg?”

 

“According to the algorithm you wrote, the best time to arrive is in about 7 minutes,” Matt replied.  He was running surveillance, and there was no lack of cameras available at the gala.  He’d be able to see every angle.

 

“Alright, we’re getting in the car,” Ray sighed.  “Come on.”

 

“You’ll be great!” Meg called after them.

 

“Gavino is in position,” Gavin said.  Ray and Jeremy slid into the backseat of the nondescript black vehicle Michael was driving.

 

“Mogar is ready,” Michael replied.

 

“BrownMan and Monster Truck are in the car,” Ray said.

 

“My code name is Monster Truck?” Jeremy asked.

 

“You didn’t think we were going to let you live that down, did you?” Matt asked.

 

“Shut up, Matt,” Jeremy threw at him.  “This is why you’re not allowed to live with us.”

 

“Actually it’s because we ran out of bedrooms and you wouldn’t share,” Michael told Jeremy.

 

“Ew,” Jeremy said.

 

“Do we need to go over the plan again?” Gavin asked.

 

“No,” Ray said.  “We got it.  Get in, get the goods, get out.  Same as it’s always been.”

 

“I know _you_ know what to do,” Gavin retorted haughtily.  “This is Lil J’s training exercise, not yours.  You’re not supposed to take the lead.”

 

“I never do,” Ray commented almost automatically.  Jeremy gave him a weird look, and even Michael was staring at him in the rear view mirror.  “Thanks for the weird looks, assholes.  I’m a real adult, I can make sex jokes.”

 

“Oh, was that a sex thing?” Matt asked, legitimate confusion clear in his voice.

 

“I know you’ve never had it, but it really does exist,” Ray shot back at him.

 

“Wow,” Jeremy said.  "Get got."

 

"Get fuckin _wrecked_ ," Ray added.

 

“Settle down, we’re pulling up,” Michael said.  “Good luck.”

 

“Honestly I’m just glad this plan didn’t involve us riding a motorcycle at any point,” Ray sighed.  Jeremy opened the door of the car and they both got out.

 

The man checking their invitation against his list seemed skeptical, but Ray made an offhand comment that might have insinuated a hate crime if he didn’t let them in, and they didn’t hear another word about it.

 

“Are we… undercover as a couple?” Jeremy asked Ray.

 

“I assumed we were,” Ray replied.  “Problem?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good.”

 

“How much of a couple are we?” Jeremy asked.

 

“I’d like to keep the ‘we need a distraction, quick, make out with me’ to an absolute minimum,” Ray replied.

 

“Deal,” Jeremy agreed.

 

“Not because you’re not cute, but you’re not really my type and my boyfriend could kick your ass,” Ray continued.  A quickly muffled laugh from Gavin.  “Gav knows what’s up,” Ray added.

 

“Yeah, I’m real scared of Ryan the IT Guy,” Michael scoffed.  “He’s probably never committed a crime in his life.”

 

“Shoutout to Ryan the IT Guy.  His main crime is being too good looking and kinda DILF-y,” Ray said.

 

“He and I have that in common,” Michael confessed.  “Not the… DILF part.  If I never have to say the word DILF again, it will be too soon.”  Gavin laughed again.

 

“Why are you laughing?” Ray asked Gavin.

 

“DILF,” Gavin giggled.

 

“You know it,” Ray grinned.

 

“You know who else is a DILF?” Gavin asked.

 

“Aren’t we supposed to be on a mission?” Matt called them back to order.

 

“This guy again,” Jeremy said.  “Shush, Matt.  We’re having a good time.”

 

Ray and Jeremy mingled with some of the guests, trying to look natural, and Jeremy, for his part, was not doing an awful job.  Ray was horrific in social situations.  Fortunately Ryan and Meg showed up and helped them with the looking natural bit.  Meg was dressed in a very sexy glittering gold dress that somehow managed to not look over the top.  (Ray could almost hear Gavin drooling through his earpiece.)  Ryan was in a black suit and tie that was embroidered in a matching gold.  As a pair, they looked spectacular.

 

“This is the one of the few times a year I really get to go nuts with the formal wear,” Meg explained, indicating the dress.  The hemline just grazed the floor, but the slits on both sides ran extremely far up her thighs, and though the neckline was high, it was almost completely backless and seemed to be designed to show as much side boob as possible.

 

“Gav, you’re really lucky I’m taken,” Ray told him, blatantly staring at Meg.

 

“Wow, excuse me,” Ryan laughed.

 

“Job,” Matt reminded them.

 

“Hold your tits,” Jeremy threw at him, but since Meg and Ryan couldn’t hear anyone but Ray and Jeremy, Meg instinctively grabbed her boobs, looking interestedly at Jeremy for what he could possibly follow that up with.  “No!  I mean, that was to Matt, not you.  Oh my god.  Okay, we’re going now.”  He turned away from the group, face turning redder by the second.  Michael was cracking up, though he couldn’t see the scene, and even Gavin seemed to think it was funny.

 

“If they ask us why we’re inside, what do we say?” Ray coached Jeremy as part of the training exercise.

 

“We got lost?” Jeremy guessed.

 

“Sometimes works.  Got anything better?” Ray suggested.

 

“Uh… We wanted to find somewhere to be alone together?” Jeremy guessed again.

 

“That sometimes works too,” Ray agreed.  “We’ll feel it out.  Do you remember which way it is to the server room?”

 

“Don’t have to, that’s why Matt is here,” Jeremy replied.

 

“Down that corridor, take the last left.  Stairs,” Matt instructed. Ray and Jeremy ran as quietly as they could through the building.  It was empty, all the workers had cleared out of their offices around 5, as usual, and nearly everyone who mattered was outside anyway.  “Down two floors, basement, then go straight across the hall.”

 

“It’s locked,” Ray said, trying the handle.  Jeremy reached into his inner jacket pocket.  “You can pick locks?”

 

“Do you think Geoff hired me because I’m useless?” Jeremy retorted.

 

“I figured that’s why he hired all of us,” Ray replied.  Jeremy made quick work of the lock and the door opened.

 

“There was no alarm on that door, was there?” Jeremy asked Matt.

 

“Uh… hope not,” Matt said uncertainly. 

 

“Just do the thing,” Gavin urged him.  Jeremy quickly plugged the drive he’d been supplied with into a port on the server and waited.

 

“How do I know when it’s done?” Jeremy asked, looking at the red light on the end of the drive.

 

“It’ll stop blinking,” Gavin replied.  Ray couldn’t stand still outside the door even though he knew he ran the risk of being seen or heard if he didn’t, but he couldn’t help it.  It was taking too long.  Someone was going to notice.  They had no escape route from the basement besides the stairwell directly in front of them, which was also the only way they would get confronted.  Sitting ducks, if someone were to come down there.

 

“Okay, I’ve got it,” Jeremy announced, pulling the drive out and stashing it in his pocket.

 

“Get back to the party and be casual.  Don’t attract attention,” Gavin instructed them.

 

“We’re not idiots,” Ray replied.  He and Jeremy started heading up the stairs again.

 

“You’ve got trouble headed towards you,” Matt announced.  “Oh, God, you guys are fucked.”

 

Ray looked directly at Jeremy, who looked as scared as Ray felt.  Realistically, Ray knew there was nothing a guard or two could do that he couldn’t somehow get out of, but they really weren’t supposed to be speeding away from this job with a three-star wanted level, and he wasn't really sure Jeremy was even armed.

 

“Trust me?” Ray asked Jeremy.  He nodded, eyes wide.  Ray leaned against the nearest wall, and pulled Jeremy against him.  Jeremy could tell without Ray asking, and put one hand against the wall and the other around Ray’s back.  Ray focused on mussing up Jeremy’s suit as much as he could and acting breathless while he hitched a leg up around Jeremy’s hip.  Jeremy’s face was against Ray’s neck, his breath was warm and quick and in Ray’s opinion – gross.  The guard Matt had seen coming spotted them.  They weren’t trying to hide at all.

 

“What are you kids doing down here?” he asked sternly.

 

“Is love a crime, officer?” Ray replied, pulling Jeremy closer to him.  Jeremy let out a fairly realistic groan.

 

“You’re not supposed to be down here.  Get a hotel,” the guard told him.

 

“Wanna join?” Ray asked the guard with a grin.  The guard was not amused.

 

“Get out!” he yelled, pointing up the stairs. 

 

“Party pooper,” Ray muttered, pushing Jeremy off of him with a scowl.  “C’mon, babe, let’s go home.”  He took Jeremy’s hand, laced their fingers together, and started pulling him up the stairs.  When Ray pushed passed the guard, he tossed a muttered ‘douche’ in his direction for good measure.

 

They were out in the courtyard, nearing the thick of the party before Jeremy spoke again.

 

“When you said ‘keep the making out to a minimum’, I really thought you were joking,” Jeremy said.

 

“I hope Matt has security footage of that, I might need it later when this story gets blown out of proportion,” Ray said.

 

“Already ripped and uploaded to YouTube,” Matt replied.

 

“Ugh, it’s probably in 480p,” Gavin whined.

 

“Try 360,” Matt countered.  Gavin whined some more.

 

“When you walk out the front, loop around the west side of the building, I’m parked and ready to pick you up,” Michael said.

 

“We’re okay, I don’t think he’s going to turn us in,” Ray said.

 

“So, Jeremy, what have you learned on this heist so far?” Gavin asked.

 

“Ray would suck anyone’s dick for like twenty bucks,” Jeremy replied.

 

“I am offended!” Ray replied in mock outrage, pulling his hand away from Jeremy’s to put over his chest, like some kind of offended housewife.  “But yes, that’s true.  I'm a total sellout.  That’s how I bought food last year.”

 

“Does that work?” Matt asked.

 

“Only if you’re good at it,” Ray replied.

 

“How’d it go?” Meg asked them as they passed by her and Ryan briefly.

 

“We’re clean,” Ray replied.

 

“Darn,” Meg frowned.  Ray looked at her in confusion.  “I got a thigh holster and I really wanted to show it off.”

 

“Really?” Jeremy asked.  Meg looked around to make sure no one was blatantly staring at them, then quickly flashed them her thigh.

 

“That’s fuckin hot,” Ray said.  “Gav, your girlfriend is fuckin _hot_.”

 

“Way too hot for Gavin,” Jeremy said, shaking his head slightly.

 

“Little J, I take offense to that,” Gavin said, sounding more British than usual if that was possible.

 

“Good, get offended,” Jeremy replied.

 

“It’s like I keep telling Ryan, I don’t understand how she keeps ending up with these really nothing guys like him and Gavin,” Ray said, pulling Jeremy away from Meg and Ryan to make their exit.

 

“I heard that,” Ryan called over his shoulder.

 

“You wanna go, X-Ray?” Gavin asked him.

 

“Any time, any place,” Ray replied.  “Bring it on, Vav.”

 

“Really shouldn’t antagonize the man who’s holding a sniper on you,” Gavin replied.

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ray replied.  A bullet went whizzing by Ray and hit the bushes to his left.  Ray’s eyes went wide.  “ _Fuck_.” 

 

There were screams from people who’d heard the shot, and suddenly the once laid-back party was a huge commotion.  Ray broke into a full sprint for the exit, with Jeremy right behind him.  They vaulted over the fence and hauled ass for the getaway vehicle as the sirens started in the distance.

 

“Couldn’t hold it together for thirty more seconds, could you?  Couldn't put a _fucking silencer_ on your rifle, _could you_?  Can't just make my life easy one fucking day of your life?” Ray panted after he’d dived into the car.  “Fuck Gavin, seriously, that guy is a shit.  Just leave him.  He’ll find his own way home.”

 

“No!  Don’t leave me here!  They’ll find me!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“They’re coming for you,” Matt added helpfully.  “I’d suggest heading east from there.”

 

“Drive,” Ray directed at Michael, who was yet to put the car in gear, though Ray and Jeremy were both safely in the back.

 

“You drive, I’m getting my boi,” Michael was out of the car in a flash.  Ray sighed heavily.

 

“I swear I’m retiring,” Ray said dramatically.  Jeremy crawled over the seats into the driver’s seat and finally put the car in gear.

 

“Team Undercover Lovers is heading to the rendezvous,” Jeremy announced.

 

“Mogar’s headed to Gavino’s position,” Michael said.  “Stop moving, you asshole.”

 

“I don’t want to go to jail again,” Gavin whined.

 

“Since when are we Team Undercover Lovers?” Ray asked Jeremy.

 

“Since ten seconds ago when I came up with it,” Jeremy replied.  “Problem?”

 

“I love it,” Ray replied.

 

“Team Nice Dynamite is on a motorcycle, headed for the tunnels, leading heavy police,” Michael reported.

 

“Idiots,” Ray said.

 

“Meg will be so annoyed she didn’t get to use her thigh holster,” Jeremy said sadly.

 

“We don’t know that she didn’t,” Ray replied.  “Maybe she whipped it out in the panic.”

 

“I hope so,” Jeremy said.  “I hope there’s pictures.”

 

“Ripping the footage as we speak,” Matt reported.

 

“Matt is the best, can we keep him?” Ray asked.

 

“I appreciate the feedback.  Please stop by my office and fill out a comment card so my boss can hear you’re pleased with my work,” Matt said.

 

“Are you gunning for a promotion?” Michael asked.

 

“Never hurts,” Matt replied.

 

“He just wants a room in the penthouse,” Jeremy said.  “Sucker.”

 

“Because it sounds _so terrible_ to have electricity and hot water,” Matt shot back.  “You got _lucky_ , Lil J.”

 

“Can you believe this guy?” Jeremy asked Ray in regards to Matt.  Ray laughed.  “Thinks he’s entitled to hot water.  Millennials, am I right?”  Ray laughed harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is by far the best chapter yet. in my opinion. I think. I've been watching ray's streams like nonstop (live and on youtube) for weeks now SO!!! i think i've got a better handle on his voice?? maybe?? he's so fuckin funny, my dudes. i can't live up to that tbh (rip the dream)
> 
> your hint for next time is: LSPD


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Ray have their brotherly moment, Ryan and Ray try to have fun, and the fuzz shows up to ruin it. minor warning for mentioned/implied police brutality?

Gavin was sipping tea on the couch when Ray stumbled into the living room around noon.  Ryan had spent the night at his own house, something about an early morning Gents meeting and not wanting to seem suspicious staying in Ray’s room.  Ray frowned at Gavin, who was staring at the TV, which wasn’t even turned on.

 

“You okay?” Ray asked him.  Gavin started and looked around, spotting Ray and then relaxing after seeing it was just his brother.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gavin said – lied.

 

“You sure?” Ray asked, taking a seat next to Gavin, folding his legs under him and facing Gavin instead of the TV.

 

“Yeah, totally.  Don’t worry about it,” Gavin nodded, taking a sip of tea.

 

“How long have you been staring into space?” Ray asked.

 

“My tea is cold,” Gavin replied.  Ray nodded.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ray asked.

 

“We had an argument,” Gavin said.

 

“Who’s ‘we’?”  Ray asked.

 

“Turney.”

 

“Ah.  What about?”

 

“It’s not important,” Gavin replied, waving a hand as if to clear the subject.

 

“So it’s about Ryan,” Ray deduced. 

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Gavin assured him.

 

“We’re together, so I think it at least concerns me a little bit,” Ray said.

 

“I’m not jealous, I’m not upset that they’re friends, that’s not it at all,” Gavin said quickly. 

 

“It’s the murder thing, right?” Ray asked.  Gavin nodded.  “Yeah, I’m with you.  I don’t understand it, but it’s not really our business, I guess.”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin sighed.  “It’s just… you know Ryan’s considering….”  Gavin looked over at Ray, not wanting to say it out loud.

 

“Hard reset, yeah,” Ray nodded.

 

“It’s absolutely incredible,” Gavin said, “his story?  He’s a scary bastard.”

 

“He’s powerful,” Ray agreed.  “Again, none of my business.”

 

“He wants her to help him,” Gavin said.

 

“And that’s what you were fighting about,” Ray said.  Gavin nodded.  “You’d be kind of a hypocrite if you said she couldn’t do it.”

 

“Exactly,” Gavin said.

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

“She got me this teacup,” Gavin said.

 

“She cares,” Ray replied.

 

“It says World’s Okayest Boyfriend,” Gavin said.

 

“She really cares,” Ray said.  Gavin sipped his stone cold tea and pulled a face.  “I’ll turn the kettle back on.”  Ray got up and headed into the kitchen.  Gavin followed him at a slower pace.

 

“You’re not upset he’s doing it?” Gavin asked.  Ray shook his head, reaching into the top cupboard for more teabags.  “You’re always the one saying Geoff’s right for not putting Griffon down.”

 

“Because that’s not what she wants,” Ray said.  “It’s anyone’s choice, and I can’t make anyone else’s choices for them.”

 

“How did you get so smart?” Gavin asked.

 

“I’m fucking stupid, man, don’t accuse me of that smart shit,” Ray replied.

 

“But you make a lot of sense,” Gavin argued.

 

“It’s not hard to make more sense than you,” Ray said, “but I have a reputation to uphold.”

 

“Does Ryan know you’re smart?” Gavin asked.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I can barely count to five,” Ray declared.  Shoutout to Hawkeye from the Avengers.

 

“You were the one who got Lil J out of that basement last week,” Gavin reminded him. 

 

“You would have talked your way out of it if you’d been there,” Ray said.

 

“I’m trying to give you credit, X-Ray,” Gavin said with an annoyed sigh.

 

“Okay so my skills include being a fascinatingly accurate sniper and being Relentlessly Gay™,” Ray shrugged.  “I’m not special.”

 

“You are smart with him, aren’t you?” Gavin deduced.  “Ohh, he’s a lucky man.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ray said, throwing the box of tea bags back into the cupboard.  “I’m making you tea, don’t insult me.”

 

“Only you’d take being called smart as an insult,” Gavin said.

 

“If this is the part where you go on about how ‘fond’ you are of me, you can skip the whole thing,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Why can’t you take compliments?” Gavin asked.

 

“Why don’t you call your fucking girlfriend by her first name?” Ray shot back.

 

“This is why I’m never nice to you,” Gavin huffed, crossing his arms.  Ray poured the hot water over the tea bag in Gavin’s World’s Okayest Boyfriend teacup and set the kettle back down on the counter.

 

“You’re never nice to anyone, don’t start with me,” Ray said.

 

“You were never smart when you were with Joel,” Gavin continued trying to push the point.

 

“Because Joel isn’t fucking smart!” Ray burst out.

 

“Joel’s plenty smart,” Gavin said, taking his teacup from Ray before Ray could break it.

 

“News to me,” Ray replied curtly.

 

“Do you love Ryan?” Gavin pressed.

 

“When did this become about me?!” Ray exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

 

“He’s not here, we can talk about him,” Gavin said.  “Come on, X-Ray, we always talk about boys you’re dating.”

 

“I vote we stop doing that immediately,” Ray said, walking out of the kitchen towards his bedroom.

 

“Why would we stop now?” Gavin asked.

 

“Because I don’t want to talk about it!”

 

“Ray,” Gavin pouted.  Ray turned around suddenly and Gavin almost walked into him, barely keeping from spilling his tea.  Ray stared at him, standing in the hallway between their two bedroom doors, which were across the hall from each other, and had been since Ray had moved in 9 and a half years ago.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“The X-Ray joke stopped being funny a long time ago, but you never call me anything else,” Ray said.

 

“I do sometimes,” Gavin protested.

 

“Like three times in my entire life,” Ray replied.

 

“Sometimes,” Gavin insisted.

 

“But something’s always up,” Ray said.  “What’s the deal?”

 

“I just… I want to know about you and Ryan,” Gavin said, slightly embarrassed for whatever reason.

 

“We’ve been together for about three weeks, call me later,” Ray said.

 

“Three weeks is three weeks.  You’re not in middle school and Ryan’s not a random guy.  You _know_ him,” Gavin said.

 

“I am really uncomfortable talking about this,” Ray said, ducking into his bedroom.

 

“So, you do, then,” Gavin deduced.  “You’re smart with him _and_ you’re in love.  Are you going to get married?”

 

“No!” Ray almost yelled.  “Gavin, get out of my room.”

 

“You _should_!” Gavin exclaimed gleefully.

 

“You’ve been with Meg, what, two years?  When are you getting married?” Ray shot back.  Gavin rolled his eyes and made all manner of disgusted sounds.  “Do you suddenly not believe in marriage?”

 

“No, it’s just… I mean, kind of…” Gavin made a wishy-washy hand gesture.  “It’s complicated.”

 

“Right, usually when people get married, they’re on first name basis,” Ray nodded.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Geoff’s married, Michael’s married, Ryan and Meg were married,” Ray said.  “Why not, right?”

 

“Would you do it if he asked you?” Gavin asked.

 

“I would do almost anything if he asked me,” Ray replied.  “I think that answers all of your questions.  Get out of my room, Vav.”

 

Gavin left Ray’s bedroom, and Ray passive aggressively turned on his TV and xbox to tune out the rest of the afternoon.

 

_Full offense, I hate Gavin_.  Ray sent the text to Ryan without context, hoping it would spur some kind of hilarious response, and  Ryan did not disappoint.

 

_I can have him put down for you, but my prices are not cheap._   Trust Ryan to go straight to murder.

 

_What’s the going rate on one murder?  Doesn’t have to be clean._

 

_Even with the friends and family discount, it’s going to clean you out._  

 

_Cmon Ry, I’m your boyfriend. :[_

 

_Alright, you get one freebie, but just so we feel like it’s an even trade, can you bring my Zentorno back to my apartment?_   Ray laughed, shutting off his TV and pulling on a jacket.  A second text came from Ryan a second later, _that’s a serious request though.  Can you come over right now?  Will your parents let you out of the house on a school night?_

 

_Even better, my parents aren’t home.  They won’t know I’m sneaking out._   It was true, Geoff and Jack hadn’t come back from the Gents meeting that morning that Ray knew of, though it was probably over with if Ryan was inviting Ray over.

 

_Maybe you could bring your rifle?  Just a suggestion._   Ray was intrigued.  He grabbed his gun from the (totally safe) corner near the door of his room and slung it over his shoulder on his way out.  Ryan had a job for them if he was asking him to bring his gun.

 

“And just where do you think you’re going, young man?”  The elevator door opened and Geoff and Jack were standing in it.  Geoff looked at Ray expectantly, even though the parents routine had gotten old much faster than Gavin calling him X-Ray.

 

“Out,” Ray replied.  “I’ll tell you about it later.”

 

“Are you going out with Ryan?” Geoff asked, a grin on his face.

 

“Geoff, would I have a gun if I was headed out with Ryan?  He’s a civilian.  Please,” Ray replied.  “Have some respect.”

 

“You never know.  I bet he’s into some shit,” Geoff said.

 

“Ew,” Ray commented.  Geoff and Jack went into the penthouse, but the all-too-amused look on Jack’s face when Ray had said the word ‘civilian’ in the world’s most sarcastic and mock-offended tone told Ray that she knew more than she was letting on.

 

When Ray got to Ryan’s apartment, candles were lit all over the living room, and the house smelled like an incredible amalgamation of vanilla frosting and apple cinnamon.

 

“You sure know how to seduce a guy,” Ray said automatically.  “But you’re missing the rose petals.”

 

“They’re in the bedroom,” Ryan replied.

 

“You’re the best boyfriend a guy could ask for,” Ray said happily.  “Dude, it’s 2 in the afternoon, what’s the deal?”

 

“I forgot to pay the electricity,” Ryan said, his cheeks getting slightly redder.  Ray laughed so hard he almost fell over.  “It’s not that funny.”

 

“Jesus Christ!” Ray practically wheezed.

 

“But… since I was at a meeting with Geoff and Jack, I couldn’t just head to the penthouse with them, and I didn’t have my car, and it was a whole thing,” Ryan blabbered.  “I tried to call them to turn it back on, but they can’t do it today, I don’t know.  It’s a whole thing.”

 

“You said it’s a whole thing twice,” Ray pointed out.  “We could go to my place.”

 

“We don’t need electricity to have a good time,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“I mean, we don’t, but that would get old after… I don’t know, 40 minutes?” Ray guessed.  “And then what?”

 

“I suppose ‘civilian target practice’ isn’t really in your box of fun ideas,” Ryan said.

 

“I could be convinced,” Ray replied.  “Technically, we’re not supposed to cause any trouble until after Lil J’s training is finished, but Gavin and Matt can’t agree on some stupid technical thing and it’s taking forever.”

 

“Hey, I never asked, why were you guys breaking into City Hall last week, anyway?” Ryan asked.

 

“I have no idea.  Erasing something from their database, I guess,” Ray said.  “No clue what or who.”

 

“I’ve done that before,” Ryan nodded.  “Simple, really.”

 

“Yeah, especially if you’re friends with the deputy,” Ray said.  “You can just walk in and out of the police station whenever you want.”

 

“I told you, you should get a mask,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“What were you deleting?” Ray asked.  “If you don’t mind my asking.”

 

“Jack.”

 

“What about her?”

 

“I deleted her,” Ryan said.  “Her police records, her fingerprints, her birth certificate, everything about her. Gone.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I pulled her file when we were taking out her crew and some of the things in it were Not Nice,” Ryan said.  “And Jack is lovely, so the whole thing just disappeared.”

 

“Is that the ‘understanding’ you and Jack have?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah, that’s part of it,” Ryan shrugged.  “Come on, let’s blow out these candles and go downtown.”

 

“D’you know Gavin and Meg are in a fight?” Ray asked as they walked from Ryan’s apartment in Vinewood into Downtown.

 

“Yes, I’m aware of it,” Ryan said diplomatically.  “Is this going to lead into why you want him executed?”

 

“No, it’s not related,” Ray said.  “He’s just annoying, that’s all.”

 

“You don’t say.”

 

“I have a tendency to react to teasing with threatened murder, but I rarely follow through on it,” Ray said.

 

“Like wanting to put one right in Michael’s forehead?”

 

“I’m not actually going to do it.  Unless the opportunity really presented itself,” Ray said.

 

“What was he teasing you about?” Ryan asked.

 

“What?”

 

“Yes, what,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Um… you know…  Dumb shit,” Ray said vaguely.

 

“Such as?”

 

“Such as I act dumb most of the time,” Ray said.  “Because it’s funny.  I don’t know if people actually think it’s funny, but it’s funny to me.”  Ryan made a noise of agreement, as if expecting Ray to continue, so he did.  “I’m not stupid, but I’m definitely probably the least smart in the crew.  So why not play it up?”

 

“You think Gavin ‘what if your legs didn’t know they were legs’ Free is smarter than you?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yes.”  Ray nodded and Ryan sent him a look. 

 

"He forgot how many wives Henry VIII had that one time during Trivial Pursuit," Ryan reminded him.  Ray shrugged.  "That's his own country!"

 

“Look, I know I’m not an idiot, but I can’t do half the smart shit Gavin does," Ray said.

 

“Why would you need to?  You have your own thing,” Ryan said.  “You’re the best shot in San Andreas, and that’s pretty vital to a crew, especially ours.”

 

“I am the best goddamn sniper in this city,” Ray said.  Ryan indicated the parking garage in front of them, about half a mile from Ryan’s apartment.  “Not a lot of competition, but still.”

 

“Gavin and Jack are decent,” Ryan said.

 

“Pff,” was Ray’s only response.

 

“Target practice,” Ryan said as they reached the top of the parking structure.  One side overlooked La Puerta Freeway, which was busy with traffic.  “Can you hit the tires of a moving vehicle?”

 

“Probably?” Ray guessed.  “I never tried.”

 

“How did Geoff teach you to shoot?” Ryan asked, perplexed at this statement, as if no one had ever learned to shoot without doing target practice on moving vehicles.

 

“There was a whiteboard with a lot of smart shit written on it that I don’t remember or care about,” Ray replied.  “How did you learn to shoot?”

 

“Aiming at tires off this roof,” Ryan said.

 

“Of course.”

 

“10 points if you hit a car, 50 points if you bust a window, 100 points if you kill someone, and 200 points if you get a tire,” Ryan explained the rules.

 

“What if I bust a tire and the car spins and hits another car?” Ray asked.

 

“50 points per car,” Ryan said.

 

“Deal,” Ray said, immediately taking a shot.  “Whoops, whiff.”  He shot again.  “Fuck.”  He pulled the trigger a third time and hit the tire of a medium sized car, which did not take the blowing of its tire well, careening into the next lane and colliding with two more cars on its way to slam into the median.  “First try.”

 

“3 bullets, 300 points,” Ryan tallied.

 

“Nah, first try!” Ray insisted.  “And no one’s dead, check it out!  I win!”  The driver of the car with the popped tire was probably the most pissed person on earth, and they could hear him screaming in anger from the roof of the parking garage.  Then the sirens started.  “Damn cops, always ruining good fun.  How many points is a cop?”

 

“Double the normal points, but only 50 if you hit him and he’s not in the car,” Ryan said.

 

“Your scoring system needs work,” Ray sighed, aiming for the police cars heading to the car wreck.  The first two shots went  directly into the windshield of the nearest car, the first shattering the windshield, and the second killing the driver.  “Whoops!  That’s probably bad.  Two stars, nicely done me.”

 

“They’re stupid, they won’t look up here unless you get 4 stars and the helicopters come out,” Ryan said. 

 

“Taking your word for it,” Ray said, pulling the trigger again.  The shot hit the police car in exactly the right spot to immediately ignite it.  The car went up in flames and  went spinning around the freeway.  Ryan smiled and Ray laughed.  Target practice was undoubtedly the best game.  “How many points is a fire truck?”

 

“Like 5,” Ryan said.  Ray pouted.  “They’re easy to hit.”  Ray put three bullets into the firetruck, trying to get it to blow up, but unsuccessfully.

 

“Okay… I am very, very wanted.  I think we should hide,” Ray said, heading to the next floor down so that helicopters wouldn’t spot them.

 

“Fine,” Ryan pouted.  “Leave it to the police to spoil fun.”

 

Due to the large scale carnage and the dead officers, Ray’s heat was not dying down, even as they hid.  A helicopter was flying overhead, and there were police everywhere.

 

“Are you armed?” Ray asked Ryan.

 

“Not armed enough,” Ryan replied.  “Two knives, a grenade, and a handgun won’t get us out of this mess.”

 

“It might be enough to make a break for my apartment,” Ray said.

 

“No way,” Ryan replied.

 

“Why won’t they stop looking?  It’s been forever!” Ray hissed.

 

“I have an idea but it’s pretty terrible,” Ryan said.

 

“Hit me.”

 

“You’re going to have to stash your gun,” Ryan said, trying the handle of the nearest car.

 

“Someone might drive off with it before we can get back,” Ray said.

 

“Better idea?” Ryan asked.  Ray surveyed the area, and saw a tiny electrical closet for the parking structure.  Ryan followed his gaze, then nodded.  Ray stashed his sniper rifle and handgun, and Ryan unloaded everything he had on him.  “We head for your place and pray.  You don’t have any crew emblems on you, do you?”  Ray shook his head.  He’d been involved with Fake AH since he was 12, and he’d never been worried about being arrested.  But this was it.  He was either going to make it to his apartment or go to the clink.  Rip.

 

“What if they recognize me?” Ray asked, voice not betraying the fear he was feeling.

 

“Follow my lead,” Ryan said, taking Ray’s trembling hands in his own.  “Everything will be fine.  What’s the biggest thing we can’t just have Geoff get us out of?  They can’t kill us, remember?”

 

“Suicide by cop is always an option,” Ray suggested.

 

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Ryan repeated.

 

It was two blocks from the parking garage at La Puerta to Ray’s apartment.  They didn’t make it.

 

Our heroes were ambushed the second they exited the south end of the garage.

 

“Officers, please, we don’t want any trouble,” Ryan said, putting his hands up.  Ray followed suit.

 

“White male, mid-thirties, blond, blue eyes, six-one, 170, accompanied by late teens, Hispanic male, five-nine, 130,” one of the officers said into his radio.  Amid the static that returned, Ray made out of the words ‘gang involvement’ and ‘fake AH’ and he felt his entire body go numb.  “Yeah, that’s right, a purple hoodie.” 

 

“Fuck,” Ray whispered.

 

“We’re gonna have to ask you to come downtown,” the officer directed at Ray and Ryan.  Ryan frowned, confused.

 

“Is there a problem, officer?” Ryan asked.

 

“There’s been a lot of gang violence in this area,” the officer replied as two other officers grabbed Ray and shoved him against the car, handcuffing him. 

 

Ray was still in shock, he didn’t even respond.  Only when an officer started stuffing him in the back of the police cruiser did he let out a strangled, “Ryan!”  The car sped away from the scene, and Ray got one last glimpse of Ryan arguing with the cops.

 

_Busted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busted aka Go! #92 through a shocking coincidence that I forgot about while writing this and only just remembered while editing.
> 
> real talk: is it or is it not funny to think of the fahc doing Go! in exactly the same way except in real life. Geoff sets them a task like 'land on a blimp' or 'kill five enemies in five different ways' and it's like a scavenger hunt and then they get pizza. (find a toilet would be probably one of the lamer ones on that list, with swingset glitch being perhaps one of the most complicated ('what do you MEAN we have to go ALL the way to Liberty City for this shit? I have a FAMILY geoff' -Michael Jones))
> 
> NEXT TIME: Ray takes a sweet tour of the police station and we get exactly what we all need: more memes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray's adventures in police custody continue. 
> 
> warning for implied racial profiling on the part of the LSPD and ray playing the race card a whole lot more than he probably ever has

Ryan had made the joke before, ‘who knows what would happen to a young boy of color in LSPD lockup these days?’.  It had been funny at the time.  It was not funny as Ray was experiencing it.  He wasn’t even sure he’d been arrested, as there had been a stunning lack of the words ‘you’re under arrest’ and no reading of Miranda rights.

 

Ray was still handcuffed, in a chair in an LSPD interrogation room when the world suddenly came back into focus and he realized he’d blocked out everything that had happened so far.

 

_“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”_

 

Oh, okay, there were the Miranda rights.  Ray was absolutely fucked.  The officers started questioning him, asking about gangs, about Fake AH, about the Roosters, about Fakehaus, about other gangs Ray only knew the names of because he’d helped Geoff take them down.  Ray had played eye in the sky on enough of Geoff and Jack’s interrogations to know how to respond to those kinds of things.  He focused on the only happy thought he could have – Ryan would have called Geoff, and they were headed to get him out _right now._

 

Ray had no idea how long it had been when they pulled him out of the interrogation room angrily and threw him into a cell.  Two sides of the cell were cinderblock, the other two sides were metal bars (steel? iron? flynt coal?) and Ray could see a desk where an officer might sit if one was so inclined.  They left him alone.  He sat down on one of the beds and rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had been.

 

_Arrested._ Jesus Christ.  Even Gavin had never been arrested for real.  He’d been taken into a car and Michael had blown it up as it made its way back to the station.  It didn’t matter at that point that erasing himself from the system was not anywhere near as difficult as it should have been, it was the principle.  Even if he and Ryan and the rest of the crew ripped the building and everyone in it to shreds, there was no way he could erase the memory of being there from his mind.  Ray zoned out, waiting to hear the telltale explosions that meant Michael or Ryan were there to pick him up, but none came.

 

Ray had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when the door opened and an officer threw another body at him.

 

“What the?!” Ray jumped, startled by the new presence.  It was fucking Ryan.  Of course it was.  “Goddammit Ryan, what good is it to have us both in here?”

 

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, much more concerned with Ray’s safety than anything else.  “Did they hurt you?”

 

“I've had worse,” Ray said.  “Why are you not working on getting me out of here?”

 

“I may have had some choice words with the officers at the scene and they hauled me in too,” Ryan said.

 

“Excellent,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “Nice fucking work, champ!”

 

“Don’t worry about it, everything’s going to be fine,” Ryan said.

 

“Easy for you to say, you’re white!” Ray shot back.

 

“I’m going to get us both out of this,” Ryan said simply.

 

“What are you, Professor Plan?” Ray asked.

 

“I’m friends with the deputy, remember?” Ryan asked.  At that second, the door to the outer room opened and in walked Ryan’s deputy buddy.

 

“Haywood!  What have you gotten yourself into this time?” the deputy asked, looking amused.

 

“Was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Ryan replied.

 

“Clearly,” the deputy laughed, flicking through the file on the desk.  “Fake AH, huh?  You join a gang on me, Haywood?”

 

“No, sir,” Ryan laughed.

 

“And fraternizing with BrownMan,” the deputy said with a nod towards Ray.  Ray snorted.

 

“All the evidence is circumstantial,” Ryan said calmly.  “This is my new assistant.  I believe I mentioned him at the gala.”

 

“Right, of course,” the deputy nodded.  “Your wife was turning heads all night.  You’re crazy to let her out like that.”

 

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right?” Ryan laughed.

 

“I can’t let you out, Haywood,” the deputy put the file back on the desk.  “The chief thinks you and the kid are the best lead we’ve had on Fake AH in years.

 

“The chief’s out of his mind!” Ryan insisted.

 

“He says you fit the description for the Vagabond,” the deputy said.  Ryan laughed, long and hard.  Ray tried to force a laugh, but wasn’t really sure why they were laughing.

 

“Me?  The Vagabond?” Ryan asked.  “Come on, Hank, you’re smarter than that.”

 

“I didn’t say I believe him,” the deputy replied, also chuckling.

 

“Can I at least get a phone call, then?” Ryan asked.  “You know the wife, she’ll be wondering where I am if I’m not home for dinner.” 

 

“I don’t see how that could hurt,” the deputy said, handing Ryan the phone from his pocket.  “Least I can do for an old friend.”  Ryan took the phone from him.

 

“Thanks,” Ryan smiled.

 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” the deputy said.  “I’m going to talk to the chief again.  This really is ridiculous.  After all you’ve done for this city…”  He left the room.  Ryan wasted no time in dialing.

 

“Hey babe, listen, I’ve got bad news,” Ryan said as soon as Meg picked up.  “Ray and I got arrested.  They think we’re involved in a gang, isn’t that ridiculous?”  Ray could hear Meg laughing on the other end of the phone.  “Is Gav there?  Can I talk to him?  Ray and I probably won’t make it back to the shop tonight, and I just want to make sure things get shut down properly.  Thanks, hun, you’re a peach.”  Ray frowned at Ryan, and Ryan pointed up to the ceiling briefly.  Ray’s eyes flicked up and noticed the camera.  Of course, Ryan had to keep up the law abiding citizen routine if they were listening.  “Hi Gavin.  I need you to lock up the shop for me tonight.  Ray and I are probably spending the night down at the police station.  It’s a long story.  Yeah, we were minding our own business in the parking garage by La Puerta.”  Ray didn’t know how much help Gavin could be in this situation unless they were planning on going full force, but that didn’t seem to be in Ryan’s plan.  Who knew, at this point, honestly.  “If you wouldn’t mind taking the money to the bank and making the day’s deposit too, that’d be grand.  Remember to record it in the books.  Right.  Okay, that’d be great, Gavin.  Thank you.  Can you put Meg back on?”  Ray looked at Ryan and Ryan gave him a reassuring smile.  “Okay, hun, I’ll give you a call when they let us out of here or if they post bail or something.  Everything’s circumstantial, so they’ll never be able to make anything stick.”  The door to the outer room opened again and the deputy stepped back inside.  “No, that’s okay, sweetie, don’t bother our lawyer.  I know she’s a busy woman and we’ll be out of here in no time.  Hank’s here, he’s going to fix this for us.  I love you too.  Okay bye!”  Ryan hung up cheerfully and handed the deputy his phone back.

 

“The chief’s still a no-go,” the deputy said, pocketing his phone.

 

“We are happy to cooperate and get this whole misunderstanding put to rest as soon as possible,” Ryan said smoothly.  The deputy nodded.

 

“I’m sorry this happened,” he said.

 

“As am I,” Ryan replied.  The deputy left their room and Ray sighed.  “Gavin’s going to handle it, don’t worry.”

 

“Yeah, because Gavin’s ever handled anything in his life,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “This sucks.”

 

“Think happy thoughts.  They can’t hold us on the evidence they have,” Ryan assured him. 

 

“Yet here we are, being held,” Ray said.  “And you were worried I was going to get arrested for driving without a license.”

 

It was probably half an hour later when an officer came running through the door and, panting, said into his radio, “No, sir, they’re still in the holding cell.”  The static made it difficult to understand the person on the other end, but it sounded like they were saying Vagabond and BrownMan had been spotted wreaking havoc on the other side of the city.  Ray frowned at Ryan, wondering if he’d gone insane.  BrownMan and the Vagabond couldn’t be fucking up the East Side, because he and Ryan were BrownMan and the Vagabond, unless…  Ray had had some very questionable tea before he’d left the penthouse.

 

_What do you mean they got away?!_ The voice of the chief of police echoed down the stairs into the holding cell.  Ryan chuckled darkly.  The chief, Ryan’s deputy buddy (Hank), and two officers came barging into the room outside Ray and Ryan’s holding cell.

 

“My sincerest apologies, Haywood,” the police chief addressed Ryan specifically.  “The evidence…. You know how it is.”

 

“All a big misunderstanding,” Ryan replied cheerfully as the door was unlocked and they were seen to the lobby.

 

“Give my best to the wife and kids,” the chief told Ryan.

 

“And mine to yours,” Ryan replied.  Ray collected his belongings in disbelief.  He and Ryan had left the building before Ray said anything.

 

“Alright, tell me,” Ray finally said.

 

“Anyone can play a character, given the right costume,” Ryan quipped.

 

“What does that even mean?” Ray asked.

 

“It means we don’t have to spend the night in jail,” Ryan said. 

 

A Kuruma pulled up next to them and someone shouted, “quick, get in!”  Ryan opened the door and Ray jumped in before Ryan did, and the vehicle peeled off.  They could hear sirens in the distance, but not close enough to worry about.

 

“I owe you,” Ryan said.  In the front seat… well.  Ray would have to hand it to the police, it sure could have been the Vagabond and BrownMan. 

 

“You’re damn right you do,” Jack replied, pulling off the skull mask and throwing it back to him.  “You can explain to Geoff and then we’re even.”  Jeremy slowly pulled his Fake AH beanie off his head as well, letting his green hair show.  A pair of glasses were folded in the cupholder next to a can of red bull.

 

“Your grand plan was to have Jack and Jeremy, of all people, dress up as us and lead the cops on a wild goose chase?” Ray asked Ryan.

 

“You didn’t have a better plan,” Ryan shot back.

 

“I’m like six inches taller than Jeremy!” Ray complained.

 

“You have similar facial hair,” Jack said.  “Gavin wanted to, but he was too skinny to be the Vagabond and too blond to be BrownMan.”  Something pink caught Ray’s eye.  It was a pink sniper rifle, but it wasn’t Ray’s, which was still stashed at the parking garage.

 

“You have pink guns?” Ray asked Jeremy.  Jeremy nodded.  “Sweet.”

 

“It was the closest to purple that they had,” Jeremy said softly.

 

“If you want purple, I can get them resprayed for you,” Ryan offered.

 

“It’s fine, thanks anyway,” Jeremy replied.  Jeremy was always so polite around the Gents, like he was scared they were going to kick him out if he said something wrong.

 

“You, me, and Geoff can be Team Pink Guns,” Ray said.

 

“How are you going to explain this one to Geoff?” Jack asked Ryan.

 

“Why, do you think he’ll ask questions?” Ryan asked.  Ray almost snorted.

 

“In the entire time the Ramsey-Pattillo Crime Syndicate has been in business, not once has a single member been brought passed the threshold of that police station.  How long were we there?  A few hours?  Yeah, I think Geoff will have a lot of questions,” Ray said.  “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t fire you.”

 

“He won’t fire you, but you’ll be very lucky if he lets you keep up the double act after you explain yourself,” Jack said.

 

“Wait a sec, he really _is_ the Vagabond?” Jeremy asked, suddenly interested and moderately terrified.

 

“Yeah, surprise,” Ray said.

 

“Oh,” Jeremy said.  “I thought they just thought you were and we couldn’t get a hold of the real Vagabond.”

 

“That’s a solid cover story,” Ryan said with a nod.  “Thanks Lil J.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“Why am I here, then?  And where did that Vagabond asshole go?” Jack asked.

 

“I said it was solid, not that it was perfect,” Ryan retorted.  “I’ll figure it out.”

 

“I can’t believe the LSPD finally caught you,” Jack said.

 

“I can’t believe they let us go,” Ray said.  “I thought Michael was going to have to come in with stickies and his minigun.”

 

“It’s better we didn’t,” Jack said.  “You’ve got a fairly good alibi if the subject ever comes up again.  You can’t be BrownMan and Vagabond now.”

 

“Speaking of alibis, we need to talk later,” Ray said much quieter to Ryan.  Ryan frowned at him.  “Maybe Meg should be there too.”

 

_“Oh.”_ Ryan understood.

 

“Does everyone know you’re the Vagabond, and I’m just a big idiot?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Definitely not everyone,” Jack said.  “Ray and Gavin and me.  Other than that, we’ve really tried to keep the Vagabond’s identity under our hair.”

 

“Oh, really?” Jeremy asked.

 

“It’s going to unravel very soon now,” Ryan said.

 

“Here’s my question,” Jack said, still racing with police on their tail through the streets of Los Santos.  “Why the big secret?  Who do you think is going to blab?  Maybe it made sense when you were the masked mercenary, taking out crews left and right, but you’re parked here.  You and Ray are getting… out of hand, and even your handler’s been with Gavin for, what, two years now?”

 

“Will be, next month,” Ryan replied.

 

“What’s the deal?” Jack pressed.

 

“It’s just gone on too long at this point,” Ryan said.  “Originally it was for safety.  It was to protect my identity, in case I wanted out.  I didn’t mean to become the most dangerous guy on the city streets, it just kinda happened.”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jack said in her bored voice.  “You’re only the most dangerous because we let you be.”

 

“Danger is my middle name,” Ryan huffed back, annoyed.

 

“Murder is your middle name,” Ray corrected.

 

“Your middle name is Ryan,” Jack threw back.  Ryan crossed his arms, more annoyed.

 

“Your name is Ryan Ryan?” Jeremy asked, confused.

 

“Did your parents hate you or just really like the name Ryan?” Ray added.

 

“Don’t get flip with me, I’m not the one who got us arrested,” Ryan replied.

 

“You were the one who forgot to pay your electricity bill and then suggested we play civilian target practice, Murder Ryan Haywood,” Ray shot back.

 

“After you explain to Geoff, Michael will be the only one who doesn’t know,” Jack continued as if nothing had happened since the last time she’d spoken.

 

“Michael doesn’t need to know anything different,” Ryan replied smoothly.  “I’m going to fix the whole situation with Geoff myself, don’t worry about it.”

 

“Hang on to your hats, we’re taking a stunt jump,” Jack announced as if that was completely normal.  The car flew expertly through the air, banging the asphalt on the far side and effectively losing the last cop on their tail.  “That should shake them for a little while.”

 

“Jack, you know you’re the greatest person in the whole world, right?” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, I get it, you’re grateful, you don’t have to bullshit me,” Jack chuckled.

 

“Does that mean you’ll lie for me?” Ryan asked.

 

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past year and a half?” Jack replied.

 

“Jeremy?” Ryan prompted.

 

“What?  I don’t care what you do, bud, that’s your business,” Jeremy said, waving his hands to exclude himself from conversation.

 

As predicted, Geoff was pacing the living room of the penthouse when the four of them walked in.  Griffon was sitting on the couch, reading a book.  Gavin was sitting in the chair with his knees to his chest, but popped up when he saw who it was.  Gavin immediately sprinted to Ray and hugged him tightly.

 

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Gavin berated him.

 

“Are you going to explain how you got my boy arrested?” Geoff asked Ryan. 

 

“Gav, I’m fine, really, you can let go,” Ray said, trying to get Gavin off of him.  Jeremy took everyone’s distraction to evacuate the living room as quickly as possible.  Gavin slowly loosened his grip, but seemed reluctant to do so.

 

“We were just messing around,” Ryan said casually.  “It wasn’t a big deal, Geoff.”

 

“You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t a big deal when you somehow got my boy, Ray, the _good one_ , arrested!” Geoff exclaimed.

 

“So I shot some cops,” Ray tried to butt in.  “I pretty much got arrested for living while being Hispanic anyway, they had no proof it was me who shot them.”

 

“Did they get any information?  Did you tell them anything?” Geoff asked.  Both Ray and Ryan shook their heads.

 

“I’m not a fucking idiot,” Ray replied.

 

“I’m a little fuzzy on details,” Geoff turned on Ryan again.  “Tell me, instead of doing the normal human thing and immediately coming to me for help when they brought in Ray, you thought the best course of action was to also get yourself arrested?”

 

“In retrospect, not a great idea,” Ryan admitted.

 

“So… still piecing this together here, Gavin thought the best way to get you released was to send some kind of BrownMan and Vagabond impersonators to the other side of town?” Geoff asked.

 

“Actually that was my idea,” Jack said.  “Gavin suggested we go in and get them with bombs.”

 

“And where is Vagabond, exactly?” Geoff asked, observing Jack in the infamous blue and black leather jacket.

 

“Not sure,” Jack lied smoothly, not even flicking a look in Ryan’s direction.  “I tried texting him but I guess he didn’t get it.  No time to fuck around with Ray in trouble, so I took matters into my own hands.  Problem?”

 

“No,” Geoff shook his head.  “That’s smart.  When somebody finally gets a hold of that fuck, tell him I want to inform him about being available when your crew needs you.”

 

“I’ll call him again,” Jack said.  Geoff nodded.

 

“You know Ryan _is_ the Vagabond, right?” Griffon piped up from the couch.  Geoff turned to frown at her, mouth slightly open.  Ray didn’t know what to say, Gavin made a soft squeak, Jack shot a look at Ryan, who looked terrified for a whole second then calmed himself slightly.

 

“No, that’s just what the news said.  They _assumed_ they had the Vagabond, because he’s usually with BrownMan, which is the one thing they did manage to not fuck up,” Geoff informed her.  “Please, I think I would know if two of my crew members were the same person.”  He turned back to the other four, none of whom had managed to complete some kind of chill composure.  “Wouldn’t I?”

 

“You sure would,” Ryan agreed.  “You know what I could use after this whole ordeal?  A nice cold diet coke.  Jack, do you mind if I help myself?”

 

“Mi casa es su casa,” Jack replied, taking the break in conversation to head for the bedrooms.  Ray could feel Gavin still holding onto him practically shaking with the need to burst out the secret, and settled for hastily pulling him from the living room into his bedroom.

 

“Can you believe that?!” Gavin squeaked.

 

“No,” Ray shook his head.  “I didn’t expect that to fly for a fucking second.”

 

“He didn’t buy it,” Ryan said, walking in behind them and closing the door.  “I don’t think he did.”

 

“How did you get arrested?” Gavin asked, interested.

 

“Someone decided to introduce me to their favorite game,” Ray said scathingly.  “Civilian target practice.”

 

“It’s fun,” Ryan said, nodding.

 

“I may have blown up some cars, and we were having too much fun to notice we got surrounded.  Weren’t armed enough to make a break for it.  _Someone_ thought flying casual wouldn’t tip them off,” Ray rolled his eyes at Ryan.

 

“I got us out of there before anything bad happened, right?” Ryan asked.

 

“I mean, speak for yourself,” Ray huffed.  “Are you staying here tonight?”

 

“There’s still no power at my place,” Ryan said.

 

“Why is there no power at your apartment?” Gavin asked.

 

“That’s what happens when you don’t pay the bills,” Ray informed him.  “Someday, you’ll have your own place and you’ll learn about it.”

 

“Geoff will want to talk to Vagabond _tonight_ ,” Gavin said.

 

“That’s my problem, not yours,” Ryan replied.  “I’ll figure that out.”

 

“Maybe… maybe you should just tell Geoff.  What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Ray asked.  Ryan was quiet for a moment, as if contemplating it.  He was quiet just long enough for Gavin and Ray to exchange unsure glances, as if there was a worst that could happen they hadn’t considered.  “Okay, never mind.  I didn’t say it.”

 

“The very worst that could very well happen,” Ryan said slowly, “is that he would make it very difficult for us to be together.”

 

“I’m a big boy,” Ray snorted.

 

“I’m sure he would be subtle about it,” Ryan said.  “Everything would be fine, then the next second we’d have completely opposing schedules, and suddenly we won’t have seen each other in two months.”

 

“Geoff wouldn’t do anything to risk me being unhappy unless he could make money off it,” Ray told him.  “I’m the good one, remember?”

 

“I have to go,” Ryan said.  “If Geoff asks, I didn’t leave the apartment.”

 

“Right, yeah,” Ray said, waving a hand.  Ryan left the room.  Ray sighed.

 

“He’s a complicated bloke,” Gavin said.  Ray nodded.

 

“Yeah, I didn’t really realize how complicated, I guess,” Ray said.  “Anyway.  Wanna watch the Bee Movie?”  Gavin laughed.  “I’m serious.”

 

“Oh, okay, sure,” Gavin agreed.  “I’ll see if Jeremy wants to join us.”  Gavin pulled out his phone to text Jeremy an invitation and Jeremy showed up a few minutes later, just as Ray was fiddling with the menu on the DVD.

 

“Oh God, you didn’t say it was the Bee Movie,” Jeremy said, annoyed.

 

“Oh hush, you haven’t even seen it yet this month,” Ray said, indicating the bare space between him and Gavin where Jeremy could sit if he so chose.

 

“I’m getting you Space Jam on DVD for your birthday so at least you have another movie to watch,” Jeremy told him, climbing over Ray to get next to Gavin.  “Wanna go halfsies with me?”

 

“Sure,” Gavin agreed.  “I’ll watch Space Jam once a month for the rest of my life.”

 

“He has a boyfriend now, why do we still have to watch the meme movies with him?” Jeremy asked Gavin as if Ray wasn’t sitting next to him.

 

“Jeremy, if you want to be a Lad, you have to participate.  This is what we do,” Gavin told him.

 

“You’re more than welcome to make a film suggestion,” Ray said.

 

“I don’t think Jeremy’s ever seen a movie in his entire life,” Gavin said.  Jeremy huffed and crossed his arms.

 

“I have seen _this_ movie eight times now,” Jeremy said.

 

“You’re so lucky,” Ray smiled, turning the volume up.  “Imagine if you’d only seen it seven times and how sad you would be.”

 

_According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.  Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.  The bee, of course, flies anyway, because bees don’t care what humans think is impossible._

 

“And you know what makes it more annoying?” Jeremy asked.  “That Ray knows it by heart.”

 

“Next heist, I’m not going to say anything besides reciting the bee movie script,” Ray vowed.

 

“We literally have a heist on Thursday,” Jeremy practically whined.

 

“Ray’s not going on that,” Gavin told him.

 

“I’m not what?” Ray asked.

 

“RAY!!” came Geoff’s yell from the living room.

 

“Go away, I’m watching the Bee Movie!” Ray yelled back.  A soft tap on the door and then Jack pushed it open.

 

“No, seriously, conference room, now,” Jack said.  Ray rolled his eyes and sighed, very annoyed, getting off the bed.

 

“What’s the issue?” Ray asked Jack as they walked down the hall.

 

“The big guy is here,” Jack said.

 

“The fuck is the big guy?” Ray asked.  Jack shot him a look and jerked her head toward the window into the conference room.  There was Vagabond Q. Bones himself, skull mask and jacket making him look just as intimidating as ever, getting what was probably a harsh lecture about responsibility from Geoff.  Not that that concerned Ray at all, so…?  What was going on?  “Sup?” Ray asked as he and Jack walked into the conference room together.  “Am I getting promoted?  Or fired?”

 

“No,” Geoff said.

 

“Dude, it’s never good when you get called to the conference room and all the Gents are already there,” Ray joked.  “Seriously, what’s up?”

 

“You need to lie low for the next two weeks to a month,” Geoff told him.  “No heists, no jobs, not even a flash of those pink guns outside this house.”

 

“I’m… grounded?” Ray asked.  “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

 

“For your safety,” Jack assured him.  “I don’t have anything planned for the next few weeks either, so I’ll be here.”

 

“Do I have to stay in the penthouse now?” Ray asked.

 

“We’d prefer it if you did,” Geoff said.

 

“You can have Ryan over as much as you want,” Jack said, “and we won’t bother you.”

 

“I’d rather stay at his house,” Ray argued.  His gaze floated to Ryan himself, standing stiffly next to Geoff like his bodyguard.

 

“I can’t have you in jail.  The cops are still looking for BrownMan and as long as that’s still you, you’re not safe,” Geoff said.  “Same goes for this guy.”  Geoff pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Ryan.  “Intel says the two of you have rocketed to the top of the most wanted list.”

 

“Through no apparent fault of our own,” Ray snarked.  “Fine, I’ll stay in the house.  But I’m taking Gavin’s surveillance jobs and I still have to train Lil J.”

 

“Some things might get postponed.  We’ll just have to see,” Jack said.

 

“Would changing my codename and outfit get me out of this, because I’m willing,” Ray suggested.

 

“No,” Geoff said.

 

“Ugh.  Fine,” Ray agreed.  “I’m serious about taking Gav’s surveillance jobs.”

 

“If Gavin agrees, then it’s fine with me,” Geoff replied.

 

“Am I free to go?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah,” Jack answered for Geoff, and Ray was gone in a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many weeks ago on ahwu (356 i looked it up), jeremy was wearing a beanie and i swear if you put glasses on him he could have been ray. from a distance. at night. when he wasn't standing next to trevor who is really fuckin tall btw wtf. to clarify: i dont want jeremy to be ray because i love jeremy being jeremy but thus this segment was born.
> 
> i almost threw my laptop across the room posting this because no matter how hard i tried everything kept pasting in italics holy shit im pissed off i had to go through and comb everything to make sure the things that were SUPPOSED to be italics were still in italics wtf this is ao3 not a fucking tumblr text post
> 
> ANYWAY  
> next time: ray learns from meg what they probably should have told him about 9 chapters ago
> 
> sidenote: "the other two sides were metal bars (steel? iron? flynt coal?)" made me laugh way harder than it should have reading this back


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original plan was to write the whole Ryan and Meg shenans before trying to write them explaining it to Ray. And I never did because I’m a failure of a human being. It was going to be this whole elaborate flashback chapter but I couldn't be bothered to put all that lovey crap in here. Save it for the prequel. This fic is all raywood all the time.

“I can’t even fucking believe you got us both grounded,” Ray grumbled.  He was facedown in the pillows in his own bed and in a very bad mood.  Matt and the other lads were planning Lil J’s next heist, and Ray wasn’t allowed to participate.  “I can’t even take up a new hobby.  I’m just going to be playing Halo 21 hours a day for the next month.”

 

“At least we’re both grounded together?” Ryan replied.  Ryan had explained to Ray the parameters of his own situation – if Geoff got even one peep of the Vagabond on the streets, he could find a new crew.  His choice.  Ryan had chosen Fake AH.  There may have been a time when he’d’ve just walked out, but not anymore.

 

“I mean, sure, if you want to look at the bright side, I guess,” Ray grumbled some more.  “Geoff will probably replace me, but at least I can keep my bedroom.  Maybe I’ll just play video games for a living.  No one ever got arrested doing that, right?”

 

“I don’t think anyone ever got paid doing that either,” Ryan replied.  Ray made a pained and annoyed groan, then rolled over to face Ryan, who was calmly sitting with his back to the headboard and a laptop in his lap.

 

“Convince me to get out of bed,” Ray complained.

 

“I’m not changing the sheets if you piss the bed,” Ryan responded immediately.

 

“Gross,” Ray commented.  Ryan offered a hand to pull Ray into a sitting position.  “I want to crash the heist meeting but I don’t want to get up.”

 

“Geoff said you could run surveillance,” Ryan said.

 

“No way will they let me take Matt’s job.  He’s too good at it,” Ray said.  “It’s the only thing he’s trained to do.”

 

“He does odd jobs with the B team,” Ryan said.  “I didn’t realize Geoff was thinking of promoting him.”

 

“Who the fuck know what Geoff thinks these days,” Ray said, annoyed.  He huffed out a breath, then half-sighed.  “Alright, I’m getting up.”  Ray hopped out of bed, gave Ryan a kiss, then headed for the conference room.

 

“You’re not allowed in here, X-Ray,” Gavin said as Ray shut the door behind him.

 

“Like hell I’m not,” Ray responded, sitting down next to Michael.  “Just because I’m not allowed to leave the house doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to participate.”

 

“Good man,” Michael said with a smile.  “You can help me talk Gavvy out of this idea.”

 

“What’s the idea?” Ray asked.

 

“Jeremy needs to learn demolitions,” Gavin began.  “And I want to start filming explosions.”

 

“Yeah, you should!” Ray said eagerly.  “You talk about how good they look, I want to see for myself.”

 

“He wants Jeremy to blow up Fakehaus’s warehouse,” Michael interrupted.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Ray said.

 

“I’ll fuckin do it, I don’t give a fuck!” Jeremy exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Michael said.  “Geoff will pound it into your head later, so we might as well start now.  You might be immortal, but you cannot be reckless.  If you want to be reckless and keep doing suicide missions, you can go back to those shitty Roosters.  I’ll teach you if you’re willing to learn, but if you’re not, then there’s nothing I can do for you.”  Ray, for one, was floored to hear Michael preach Geoff’s words.

 

“Michael,” Gavin said, concerned.

 

“You know the rules, Gavin,” Michael almost snapped.  It was the first time Ray thought Michael would actually be a good successor to Geoff one day.

 

“It’s a risk, Michael.  It’s a risk we take and we take it more than anyone!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“And you shouldn’t,” Michael snapped.

 

“Luckily, I’m the Leader of the Lads,” Gavin replied happily.

 

“Oh boy, not this again,” Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Look, Jeremy, fuck whatever Gavin says.  Geoff makes the rules around here,” Michael said to Jeremy, who hadn’t said anything in minutes at this point.

 

“Ey, I’m here to learn.  Don’t send me back to the Roosters,” Jeremy said.

 

“What’s so suicidal about blowing up their warehouse?” Gavin asked, crossing his arms in annoyance.

 

“One, it’s right next to ours, and knowing you you’d somehow blow up ours with it.  Two, we’re not trying to start a war right now, _Gavin_ , and Three!  Jeremy and Adam Kovic are related!” Michael exclaimed.

 

“You are?” Ray asked.

 

“No, we’re not,” Jeremy mumbled.

“Fuck you, you’re not,” Michael retorted.  “Of course you goddamn are.  What is he, your brother?  Uncle?  Cousin’s stretching it, he’s not old enough to be your dad.”

 

“I’m not saying shit,” Jeremy replied, louder and more annoyed than before.  “Fuck Funhaus.  Even if I was related to one of those fucks, which I’m _not_ , fuck em.”

“Did someone switch Jeremy with someone else?” Ray asked, looking under the table for comedic effect.  “Is this really the quiet kid who draws and writes music and plays pokemon on the roof in perfect silence?”

 

“He’s a Lad now, he’s allowed to be rowdy,” Gavin said.

 

“Excuse you, I am the exact opposite of rowdy,” Jeremy huffed.

 

“I think Trevor’s a bad influence on him,” Michael said to Ray.  Jeremy made a face.  Michael grinned.  “Lindsay’s giving up her office to give Matt and TreyCo space here.”

 

“Lindsay had an office?” Ray asked.  Michael nodded.  “Are they getting bunkbeds?”

 

“Maybe,” Michael said.  “Jack’s trying to figure it out.  She said Geoff and Gavin suck at decorating and the ‘poor boys’ deserve something nice.  Her and Griff went to a wallpaper store?  I don’t know, I think they might have been fucking with me.”

 

“Excuse me, I have much better fashion sense than Jack does!  Have you _seen_ that floral shirt?  It’s hideous!” Gavin exclaimed.  “You want someone to decorate a room, just ask Turney, she’d love to do it.”

“Have you guys seen Matt?” Ray asked, gesturing in the direction of Matt himself, who was sitting at the end of the table with a laptop.  “Total scrublord.  Doesn’t matter to him if he has wallpaper.”  Matt shook his head slightly, indicating that he was, in fact, paying attention.  “And he needs a shower.”

 

“I haven’t had running water in my apartment since Christmas,” Matt replied.  Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Millennials.”

 

“We were planning a heist, here,” Matt reminded them.

 

“Yeah, yeah.  What have you got, Matt?” Michael asked, circling the table to look over his shoulder at his laptop.  “You’re not even working!”

 

“I _was_ working!  I got bored!” Matt said.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, RE4 is the best of the series, but _Jesus_!” Michael complained.

 

“You’re right, you’re right, I much prefer an xbox to a PC too,” Matt said, reaching a save point and shutting down the game.  “It’s hard when you don’t have electricity.”

 

“You’re fucking welcome to come here and fucking shower,” Michael told him.  “What the fuck, Jesus, Matt.  It’s like the fucking Roosters threw you out in the street.”

 

“It is like the Roosters threw me out in the street,” Matt agreed.  “Heist?”

 

“We’ll head up into Sandy Shores and pick a fight with those guys,” Michael said.  “The risk is pretty low and we don’t have to start shit with Fakehaus.”

 

“We can’t be starting shit,” Matt said, shaking his head.  “No cops.  Too risky.”

 

“I know how to shake cops,” Michael rolled his eyes.  “Lil J’s gotta learn someday.  I can teach him.  Sandy Shores is miles from cops.  It takes them fuckin forever to get up there.  We can hide at the bunker if we need to.”

 

“Ryan and I can run drones from the bunker so Matt can have eyes on the scene,” Ray offered.

 

“You’re not allowed to leave the penthouse,” Gavin replied.

 

“I’ll dress in plainclothes and we’ll take the Zentorno.  LSPD doesn’t stand a fucking chance of catching us,” Ray said.  “And it’s not like I’ll be causing trouble.  Drones don’t even have fucking weapons on them, remember?”

 

“I’m sure Geoff would prefer it if you stayed here,” Gavin repeated.

 

“I’m sure Geoff can suck a fat one,” Ray replied.  “You’ve known me for ten years, Gav.  Can anyone stop me from doing whatever I want?”

 

“Jack can,” Gavin said.

 

“Fine, get Jack to tell me not to and we’ll see what happens,” Ray said.  “In the meantime, if this is all settled, I have a boyfriend to please.”  Michael made a hand gesture dismissing Ray from the meeting and Ray trotted happily back to his room.

 

“How’d it go?” Ryan asked conversationally when Ray burst back into his room.

 

“We’ve got a job,” Ray announced, hopping back onto the bed.  “Running drone surveillance from the bunker.”

 

“Oh boy,” Ryan rolled his eyes.  “There’s no possible way that can go badly.”

 

“Can I wear your jacket?” Ray asked.

 

“No!  I don’t even have it with me,” Ryan said with a slight frown.  “Are you crazy?”

 

“I just thought it would be comfy,” Ray said.  “I can’t stop thinking about how good you look in it.”

 

“You can see if Geoff will let you go to my apartment, but I doubt it, if you expect him to let you go to the bunker for the heist,” Ryan said.

 

“The bunker is arguably even safer than the penthouse,” Ray argued.  “If we go to your place, can Meg meet us there?  We still need to have that conversation.”

 

“What, right now?” Ryan asked, finally looking up from his laptop.  “I can ask, I guess?”

 

“You do that.  I’ll go ask Jack for permission to leave,” Ray said, immediately bouncing off the bed and heading to Jack’s office without waiting for another response from Ryan.  “Jaaaaaack!”

 

“Mm?” Jack replied, not looking up from her computer.

 

“Can I go to Ryan’s?  We won’t get into any shenanigans,” Ray asked.  “Pleeeeeease.”  Jack looked up at him, surveying him harshly.  Ray pouted like he was 15 again and he was asking for permission for him and Gavin to go to a concert three hours away after Geoff had already said no.  Jack sighed and took her glasses off, folding them and setting them to the side of her keyboard.

 

“If I find out the two of you have caused any kind of trouble _at all_ ,” Jack warned him.

 

“Why do people always associate me and Ryan with trouble?” Ray asked, throwing his arms in the air.

 

“Maybe because you’re the two most wanted criminals in Los Santos?  Confirmed kill lists a mile long?  Major destruction of city, state, federal, and private property?” Jack suggested.  “Just to name a few.”

 

“Not as much property destroyed as Michael,” Ray pointed out.  “C’mon, mom, let me go to my boyfriend’s house.  I’ll be good, I swear.”  Jack continued to just look at him.  “I’m going whether you say I can or not.  It’ll just be easier for everybody if you give me permission.”

 

“You can go,” Jack sighed in a tone just so motherlike it made Ray wonder if she wasn’t actually his mother.  “Have a good time.  Don’t stay up too late and remember to use protection.”

 

“I hate you,” Ray mumbled, ears turning slightly redder as he left her room.

 

Meg was perched on the couch in Ryan’s living room, waiting for them, when they arrived.

 

“Little bird said you wanted to talk to me?” she asked.

 

“Gavin?” Ray asked, confused.  Meg and Ryan both laughed.  “Oh, the expression.  Got it.  I swear English is my first language.”

 

“And your only language,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Si,” Ray nodded, using basically all of his knowledge of Spanish.

 

“And I can only imagine how complicated this conversation will be,” Meg continued.

 

“Let’s start with something to drink,” Ryan suggested.  “Dr. Pepper?  A beer?”  Ray and Meg nodded and Ryan went to the kitchen to furnish said refreshments.

 

“Actually, can I have an iced tea?” Meg called into the kitchen.  Ryan came back with drinks, passing them out like he was their waiter.  “Alright, kid, what do you want to know?”

 

“Mostly, originally, I just wanted to know how you can still be friends after everything that went down between you two,” Ray said, looking from Meg to Ryan and back again.

 

“It wasn’t exactly easy.  It took a while to want to be around each other again,” Meg told him.  “Either one of us, really.”

 

“Even before the Great Immortality Incident of 2005, we were at each other’s throats constantly,” Ryan added.  “We all know I’m a psychopath.  It was a matter of time before I snapped.”

 

“The Great Immortality Incident of 2005?  Is that really what we’re going with?” Meg critiqued.  Ryan shrugged.  “It took, what, like, a little over a year apart to want to have That Conversation?”

 

“I think it was like 14 months,” Ryan nodded, taking a sip of his diet coke.

 

“I went to Vegas, learned how to hack the system,” Meg said with a grin.

 

“And was that after the first or second time he killed you?” Ray asked.

 

“Second,” Meg said.  “I think I blocked out most of the events between the first time and the hard reset.”  She laughed lightheartedly.  “The best thing Ry’s ever done for me was that reset.  Least I can do is help return the favor.”  Ray nodded slightly, thinking about Ryan’s imminent hard reset.  “Gav says you’re not a reset advocate?”

 

“I’m not,” Ray shook his head slightly, still thinking about things more than he was really in the present.  “But that’s just my opinion.”

 

“It’s really good for some people,” Meg said, clearly knowledgeable on the subject, “but it can really mess up other people.  And for some people it just doesn’t do anything.”

 

“I don’t know which of those would be the worst outcome,” Ryan said.

 

“I think you’re fine as is,” Meg replied.

 

“So… you think he did the right thing, for you?” Ray asked.  “Even though you didn’t have a say in it?”

 

“We’d known each other long enough that I’m sure he could tell I wasn’t myself,” Meg said.  “And from what I hear, I was a little insane.”

 

“How long had you been married at that point?” Ray asked.

 

“Like five months,” Meg said.  “But we’d been together for years.”

 

“And… are you still married?  Legally?” Ray asked.

 

“Yes,” Ryan spoke the word heavily.  Ray bit his lip, trying to figure out where to navigate the conversation from there.  He took a deep breath and sighed it out, waving his hands wordlessly, hoping maybe one of the other two would read his mind and take over asking questions for him, but they didn’t.

 

“So…. How am I supposed to feel about that?” Ray finally asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Ryan replied.  “I guess it would be different for everybody.”

 

“No wonder Gavin wants us to get married so badly,” Ray muttered.

 

“What?” Meg asked.

 

“Nothing,” Ray said quickly.  “How did you two become friends again?”

 

“When I got back to Los Santos, I found out this guy had been quite literally beating himself up over the whole thing for months.  I assume you’ve seen his scars – all self-inflicted,” Meg said.  Ray nodded.  “I was over it.  Don’t get me wrong, I knew it was over between us, but we had always been such good friends.  Getting married was probably our biggest mistake.”

 

“Definitely our biggest mistake,” Ryan agreed.

 

“He needed support and I wanted my friend back,” Meg said.  “I had debts in Vegas I needed to pay off.  Hacking can only get you so far in this world, I needed a man on the ground.  Ryan offered.  He can sometimes go a little overboard, but assassin jobs can get you rich very quickly in this city.  I assume you know that.”

 

“Yeah,” Ray said with a nod.  “The currency of Los Santos is blood and information.”

 

“And money,” Ryan added.  Ray waved a hand like ‘well yeah’.  “We went into business together.  We covered our tracks.  Staying undercover as the perfect married couple still had its aesthetic benefits, so we never bothered to change the arrangement, even though the romance was definitely more than dead.”

 

“A few years went by, and I met Gavin, and you know the story from there,” Meg said.  “Gavin is like… the anti-Ryan, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Yes, I would very much agree with that,” Ray agreed emphatically.  “That’s why I’m with Rye bread and not Vav.”  Meg laughed.

 

“And it was beneficial.  I got us un-arrested with that cover,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“I mean, you also got us arrested, though, so pick your story,” Ray replied.

 

“Nah,” Ryan smiled. 

 

“Ryan Ryan Haywood, you made me the first member of the crew to be caught by the LSPD,” Ray complained.

 

“Nah,” Ryan shook his head while still grinning.

 

“Ryan Ryan Haywood?” Meg asked.

 

“His middle name is Ryan,” Ray told her. 

 

“Right,” Meg laughed.  “And his first name is also Ryan?”

 

“Only when I’m not angry at him, then his first name is Murder,” Ray explained.

 

“His first name is J–” Meg began but Ryan jumped up to cover her mouth.

 

“His first name is not important,” Ryan corrected her, giving her a stern look.  She frowned and he pulled his hand away, clearly trusting her not to say anything else.  Ray raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

 

“James,” Meg said quickly, giggling at the annoyed look on Ryan’s face.

 

“That’s fucking boring,” Ray said.  “I really wanted it to be something a lot more interesting.  And… less normal.”

 

“What’s your middle name?” Ryan asked.

 

“I don’t have one,” Ray replied.

 

“No way!” Meg said.  “Really?”

 

“Yeah really,” Ray said.

 

“Trouble it is,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Is there anything else you want to know, Ray?” Meg asked.  “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me.”

 

“Was he different?  Before?” Ray asked.

 

“Ryan then and Ryan now were not too different,” Meg said, looking at Ryan with a nostalgic  look, as if struggling to remember.  “Maybe he always had the Vagabond in him.  Looking back, maybe I could see it when we fought but… for the most part, he was so great.  The way he looks at you, I think… maybe he hasn’t changed at all, and it was just me that changed.”

 

“You are the same as you always were,” Ryan told her.  “And Gavin is goddamn lucky to be blessed by your presence.”

 

“Yeah, I think Gavin’s cool too,” Meg said.  “Does that answer your question, Ray?”

 

“If he resets…” Ray began.

 

“ _If_ ,” Meg repeated.  “If he resets.  For all we know, even if we reset him, he won’t change.  We don’t know anything for sure.  He could be exactly the same, he could be all Vagabond, he could be all Ryan.  We don’t know.”

 

“I know we’ve been together like a month, maybe,” Ray said, “but… am I stupid to worry you won’t like me anymore?”

 

“It’s not _stupid_ , but I’m also worried you won’t like me anymore,” Ryan said.

 

“But Ryan, how else would I satisfy my need for older men?” Ray asked sarcastically.

 

“Older men,” Meg repeated, laughing.

 

“You did say you liked the mask,” Ryan recalled.

 

“Fuck yeah, I like the mask,” Ray agreed.  “I won’t pretend I’m not messed up.  I got problems, bring on the therapy.”  Meg laughed over the top of her iced tea.

 

“Looks like the two of you are sorted out,” she said, still laughing a little.  “Anything else I can do for you?”

 

“How did he do it?” Ray asked, looking at her seriously, not a hint of a joke on his face.

 

“Seriously?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, I want to know what to look out for,” Ray said, still not really joking.  Ryan laughed anyway.

 

“How do you think?” Ryan asked.

 

“You’re a creative guy, Ry,” Ray said.

 

“Um…” Meg said, the mood in the room falling several levels very quickly.  “I – I don’t really remember, honestly.  I have a scar…”  She pulled the neck of her shirt to show a scar between her left collarbone and breast.  “I suspect I bled out.”

 

“I’m not a doctor, but, yeah, that’s probably true,” Ryan said.

 

“And… the second time?” Ray prompted, almost not wanting to know, but needing to know for his own sanity.

 

“Cyanide,” Ryan said quietly.  “Given the choice, I would do more research next time, because it was not pretty.”

 

“Next time!” Ray repeated.  “This guy!”  Meg smiled.

 

“He means well,” she said.  “I don’t remember it, and shit happens when you’re immortal, right?  You’ve died.  It wasn’t always pleasant, right?”

 

“A few times, I guess,” Ray shrugged, not keen on talking about his childhood.

 

“I don’t think I’d ever describe the process as ‘pleasant’, really,” Ryan said.

 

“Are you really going to do it?  The reset?” Ray asked him.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said.  “Gonna try, at least.  That okay with you?”

 

“Yeah,” Ray said with a quick nod. 

 

“Anything else you want to ask me?” Meg asked.  “You can always text me later if you think of something.”

 

“No, I think that was everything I needed to know,” Ray said.  “Thanks Meg.”

 

“No problem, my dude,” Meg replied.  She kissed each of them on the cheek quickly and made her exit from the apartment.

 

“I’m really glad she was so cool about all that, you know what I mean?” Ray said.  “I felt so fucking awkward the whole time.  Like it wasn’t my business.”

 

“It is your business,” Ryan told him.  “You deserve to know what our arrangement is.  And I appreciate it when you ask questions without pointing a gun at my head.”

 

“I don’t even have a gun.  Geoff took all my shit,” Ray complained.  “How is a young man of color supposed to defend himself on the streets of Los Santos?”

 

“Hopefully he has a big scary boyfriend,” Ryan suggested.

 

“Yeah, that’d be cool.  Where can I get one of those?” Ray joked.  Ryan burst out laughing.  “No, seriously.”

 

“You crack me up,” Ryan told him.  “Should I turn on the xbox or go take off my pants?”

 

“That you even have to ask really shows how little you know about me,” Ray tutted.  Ryan tossed him a controller and turned on the TV.  “Man, someone should really tell Jack all her bullshit about ‘finding the perfect person someday, you just have to wait’ bullshit is 100% accurate.”

 

“Yeah, I love you too,” Ryan joked.  Ray grinned.

 

“She’s like my mom, you know, I have to give her a hard time.  It’s my job,” Ray continued.  “And lately she’s been much easier to get along with than Geoff.”

 

“That’s because Geoff doesn’t know the whole story,” Ryan replied.  “I stand by my statement that things would be worse if he knew who I really am, but Jack doesn’t care.  She knows I won’t hurt you.”

 

“You can’t do anything too permanent to me,” Ray corrected.  “You 100% could hurt me.”

 

“Do you not trust me?” Ryan asked.

 

“I trust you,” Ray said.  “I assume if you hurt me, it would be consensual.”

 

“Ohh, okay,” Ryan said with a nod, sending an almost lewd look over at Ray.  “You’re one of _those_.”

 

“I will not be kinkshamed in my own living room,” Ray retorted.

 

“I’m not kinkshaming anyone, and this is my living room, not yours,” Ryan said.

 

“Something about equal partners in a relationship, and I will accept nothing less than joint custody of the living room,” Ray said.  “Fill in the first part of the joke yourself.”  Ryan burst out laughing.

 

“You are the absolute worst,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, I love you too,” Ray joked in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expect I'll get annoyed comments. I'm ready.
> 
> Next time: Ryan and Ray plan a trip??


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this fic. I just realized I crossed 50k with the last update?? Holy cow?? I'm so sorry you've had to sit through 50k of my garbage fic. Anyway, enjoy more:

“Did you set a date?” Jack asked.  Ryan shrugged half-heartedly.

 

“It’s waited this long, it can wait until I’ve got nothing better going on,” he said.

 

“You’ve got Ray practically attached to you now, especially this last week or so you’ve both been out of commission,” Jack reminded him.  “His opinion is sort of relevant to the situation.”

 

“He’s cool with it,” Ryan said.  “He only said he won’t be the one to do it.  Meg already volunteered.”

 

“He won’t even be there with you?” Jack asked.

 

“I didn’t ask him.  Do you think he’d want to?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Speaking as Ray, I can verify, I do not want to be there,” Ray called over from the other side of the room.  Ryan and Jack were speaking in hushed tones in the kitchen at the penthouse.  Ray was sitting on the couch with Jeremy, playing video games.

 

“Stuff like that can traumatize a kid,” Ryan said to Jack, barely acknowledging Ray had said anything.  Ray rolled his eyes.  “It can traumatize anyone, look at Griffon!”

 

“He’s not a kid, though,” Jack insisted.  “He’s a grown ass man, a wanted criminal, and a damn good assassin.  He sees blood and death every day.”

 

“It’s different when it’s someone you know,” Ryan replied.

 

“Is it?” Jack asked.  “I’d argue it’s worse when it’s not someone you know is immortal.”

 

“It’s his decision, I’m not going to force him,” Ryan said.

 

“How are you going to explain to Geoff?  Who knows how long you’ll be out.  No Vagabond, no Ryan.  Ray moping around the house like a lost puppy,” Jack said.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ray barely raised his voice, just annoyed that the conversation was being had without his input.

 

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Ryan threw at Ray.

 

“She’s not my mother,” Ray said.

 

“Just think about it, both of you,” Jack sighed.

 

“Would you consider being the one to do it?” Ryan asked her.  “If Meg can’t?”

 

“Of course,” Jack agreed immediately.  “You even have to ask?  How long have we known each other?”

 

“God, Jack, I don’t even know,” Ryan laughed.  “You’re the best.”

 

“I try,” Jack said.

 

“I guess I’ll have to tell Geoff before I do it,” Ryan decided.  “Any tips?”

 

“A few.  I’ll run them by you later,” Jack said.  “I should be getting ready to go out, actually.  With the Vagabond out of commission, Gavin and I are taking a few jobs you and Meg would usually handle.”

 

“Geoff didn’t do anyone any favors benching the Vagabond,” Ryan said.  “Just making more work for everyone else.”

 

“You do too much work as it is,” Jack told Ryan.  “You already pull twice your weight as the Vagabond, and Ryan builds all of our weapons too.  You should take this time and go on vacation.”

 

“To where, Disneyland?” Ryan asked sarcastically.

 

“I wouldn’t say no to Disneyland,” Ray piped up.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Ryan told Jack.  “No promises.”

 

“Yeah, like Geoff would let you two go to Disneyland with no supervision,” Jeremy finally chimed in.  “You’re not even allowed to go to the grocery store.”

 

“Why would I want to go to the grocery store?” Ray asked.

 

“I went to the grocery store yesterday,” Ryan told Jeremy.  “Geoff doesn’t tell me what to do.  He’s not my dad.”

 

“He’s not mine either,” Jack said, “as much as he’d like to think he is.”

 

“He doesn’t think he’s your dad,” Ryan said with a laugh.

 

“You’ve never heard him say ‘I would have loved to have had a daughter’ and get that dumb look on his face?” Jack asked.  “Geoff’s my best friend.  If he was anything less, I’d still have my own crew.”

 

“I guess it’s a good thing he is, then, since that dumb masked fuck finally took out the Pattillo crew a few years ago,” Ryan said.  Jack chuckled.

 

“I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Bones, Vagabond Extraordinaire, you admire his work,” Jack barely got through her sentence without laughing.

 

“Had to be done, I’m sure.  Paid well too, I’m sure,” Ryan said.

 

“You bet your ass it did,” Jack half-muttered.  Ryan grinned.

 

“I have literally no fucking idea what they’re talking about, do you?” Jeremy asked Ray in an undertone.

 

“I’m beginning to suspect,” Ray replied, slightly annoyed.

 

“Jack had a crew and Ryan took it out?” Jeremy asked.  “Because she wanted him to??”

 

“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense to me either,” Ray said.

 

“And it’s none of your business,” Jack called over to them.  “Shouldn’t you two be doing homework or something?”

 

“I graduated three years ago,” Ray said with no hint of joke in his voice.

 

“Jeremy?” Jack asked.

 

“I got it done already,” Jeremy said quietly.

 

“You’re still in school?” Ray asked him.

 

“I just wanted to take some college courses,” Jeremy shrugged.

 

“Cool,” Ray agreed.

 

**

 

“We can’t go to Disneyland,” Ryan announced, shutting the door beside him.  Without hesitation, without even missing a beat, Ray threw his playstation controller directly at the wall and it shattered into pieces.

 

“ _Fuck_!” Ray yelled loudly.  He was immediately calm about the entire ordeal like he hadn’t just smashed a controller for the comedy.  “Guess I can’t play that game anymore.  Do me a solid and turn on my xbox?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan said, stepping around the carnage that was once a controller to get to the consoles on the other side of the room.  “Don’t you want to know why?”

 

“My guess is it’s because Geoff is a whore,” Ray suggested.

 

“It’s not because Geoff is a whore,” Ryan shook his head, setting down his bag at the foot of the bed, kicking off his shoes quickly, and joining Ray in sitting against the headboard.  “It’s because we’re going to Vegas instead.”

 

“Vegas?” Ray asked.

 

“Yep.  I’ve got a weapons deal I have to do, and Geoff gave me permission to bring you and make a weekend of it, as long as we don’t kill anybody or start a war or something,” Ryan said.

 

“Bullshit.  He doesn’t trust us for a second,” Ray said.

 

“No, _me_ he trusts,” Ryan reminded him.  “The Vagabond’s not coming with us.  Jacket and mask are staying where they are.”

 

“They’re in the trunk of your Zentorno,” Ray pointed out.

 

“That’s true, but the fact remains,” Ryan said.

 

“Can I wear your jacket while we’re in Vegas?” Ray asked.

 

“Why do you want to wear my jacket so bad?” Ryan asked.

 

“You don’t date a guy to not wear his jacket,” Ray said, as if it was obvious.

 

“Oh, okay, excuse me, I’m new to this,” Ryan said.  “Sure, you can wear my jacket in Vegas.”

 

“You’ve never had a boyfriend before?” Ray asked.

 

“Who has the time?” Ryan replied flippantly.

 

“Fair enough,” Ray nodded.  “Want to jump in on this and help with multi-player achievements?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan agreed.

 

**

 

“What kind of trip is this going to be?” Ray asked, contemplating his own closet.  A brand new suitcase Jack had bought him specifically for the trip (and mostly because it came to everyone’s attention Ray had never been on vacation and didn’t own a suitcase) was open on his bed.  “Is this a sexy trip or a laidback vacation type trip?  Should I bring pajamas or a swimsuit or just underwear?  Do I need my suit?  Like what is the plan?”

 

“I don’t know, I figured we’d just wing it once we got there,” Ryan said, once again glued to his laptop.  Though Ray had never once seen Ryan on his laptop at his own place, he rarely left it when he was staying over at Ray’s.  Ray figured he still had to do ‘work and stuff’.

 

“That really narrows it down,” Ray said, pulling open a drawer to look for his favorite jeans.  “Will I need my other pair of vans?  They’re at my apartment.  I know we’re not allowed there, but I could have Gavin go pick them up.”

 

“I really don’t know,” Ryan repeated.  As much as Ryan was focused on his work, Ray did enjoy the fact that he never asked Ray to stop bothering him with dumb questions.

 

“Have you been to Vegas before?” Ray asked.

 

“A few times,” Ryan said.  “Once, a very long time ago, for fun.  Since then, mostly business trips.  The Gents and I have been dealing with this crew for a few years now.”

 

“Are we staying in a hotel or are we sleeping in the car?” Ray asked.

 

“I booked us a suite,” Ryan said.  “Geoff offered but I reminded him he pays me so that I can buy things.”

 

“Like electricity for your apartment,” Ray said.

 

“Exactly.”  Ryan continued to tap on his keyboard and Ray disparately rummaged through his closet for his best clothes.  Something, anything, that would look good on him when he’s standing next to Ryan and trying to pretend he’s not a literal child.  “Have you really never been on vacation before?”

 

“Nah,” Ray said.  “When I was like 3, I went to Puerto Rico, but I don’t remember it.”

 

“That’s pretty cool, I guess,” Ryan said.

 

“Geoff and Griffon went to Hawaii a few years ago, but they left me and Gavin at home with Jack,” Ray continued.  “I guess they had a really good time, but, you know, whatever.  My Gamerscore is better than it would have been if we’d gone with them and the wifi there is probably terrible.”

 

“That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard,” Ryan said.

 

“I’ve clearly never told you about the time Joel took me shark hunting,” Ray replied.

 

“Do I dare ask?”

 

“Nah,” Ray shook his head.  “Are you going to watch the Goofy Movie with me and the Lads tonight?”

 

“Are you gonna talk about how the girl dog is hot?” Ryan asked.

 

“I might,” Ray said defensively.  “She is hot.  Call me a furry if you want.  We’re all furries.  She’s hot!”

 

“I can’t believe I’m dating this,” Ryan shook his head.

 

“Shut up, you love me,” Ray grinned.

 

“We’ll see if I’m not busy,” Ryan told him.  “I have to go home and pack at some point.”

 

“Are we taking the Zentorno?” Ray asked.  “To Vegas, I mean?”

 

“I haven’t decided,” Ryan said.  “We do have to drive, because we have to bring the weapons to the deal, obviously, but there’s just not a lot of room in it.  Geoff offered his Elegy.”

 

“It’s bright pink,” Ray deadpanned.

 

“Yeah…” Ryan said.  “Doesn’t exactly scream subtlety.”

 

“Does Jack or Michael have a sports car or something?  Like an Elegy, but not pink?  Something with a backseat and a trunk?” Ray asked.

 

“I’m asking around,” Ryan replied.  “The Elegy doesn’t have a backseat, but yeah, something in that category.  Michael offered the Kuruma, but they might need it here.  It’s not a big deal, I could get a car.  I have very good credit, believe it or not.”

 

“Oh, I believe it,” Ray said.  “I also believe you could go out and drop 700 big ones on a Kuruma if you wanted to.”

 

“Cheaper without armor,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, and without armor it looks like a hideous cross between a Honda Accord and Subaru Outback,” Ray said.  “Definitely go with the armor.”

 

“We don’t need two armored Kurumas,” Ryan sighed.

 

“Sure we do.  You can only fit four people in a Kuruma,” Ray said.  “There’s like 10 of us now.  Matt and Trevor are officially moving in while we’re gone.”

 

“We’ll see,” Ryan said.

 

“Can I bring guns?” Ray asked.

 

“Nnnn…. Maybe,” Ryan said, a small smile growing on his face.  Ray chuckled, dark like Ryan usually did.  Ryan had been on a murder break for far too long.  Which, really, it had only been since the last heist, so … four weeks, yesterday?  Had it really only been a month?  It felt like it had been forever since they’d had their last shootout.  Running drone surveillance from the bunker had been so boring even Ray had been itching to shoot something when it was over.  (They’d both settled for the world’s most complicated sex in the Zentorno afterwards.  Never.  Never, ever again.  No more sex in the Zentorno, it was literally terrible, 0/10, would not recommend.)  “I’m willing to bet we can find someone who really deserves to be tortured and killed in Vegas.”

 

“What, like a rapist?”

 

“Yeah, or like a Congressman.  Or, more than likely, someone who is both.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Ray said.

 

**

 

“So the Kuruma has a top speed of 147 according to the specs ,but Jack says it barely pushes 100 on a good day,” Ryan said.

 

“Armored or unarmored?” Ray asked.

 

“You’d think there would be a difference, wouldn’t you?” Ryan said.  “The Zentorno tops out at 213 according to the Pegassi people, but I’m sure I’ve never taken it higher than 130 or so.  Speeding tickets are expensive.”

 

“Pussy.”

 

“The package we’re delivering fits in the back of the Zentorno, so I’m not buying a new car this week,” Ryan announced.

 

“Ryan, come on, we talked about this,” Ray complained.  “You’re driving a beat up old Zentorno.  Get a classy car.  Get an X80.”

 

“God no,” Ryan said.  “There’s no room in those things and they’re pointed in the front so you lose control during flips and they’re expensive when you blow them up.”

 

“I don’t know anything about them, just that I saw Jeremy drooling over one and Geoff had that Look™,” Ray shrugged. _Jeremy Drooley._

 

“I’ll hand it to Geoff, he treats you kids well,” Ryan said.

 

“You’re not that much older than Jack, are you?  Geoff can be your dad too,” Ray said.

 

“No thanks,” Ryan laughed.  “It’s bad enough just having him as a boss.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Don’t take that the wrong way, I think Geoff’s great,” Ryan said quickly.  “Just, you know, he’s my boss and the responsible person to the guy I’m dating.  Which can be seen as slightly intimidating.”

 

“He doesn’t really have power over me,” Ray scoffed.  “C’mon Ry, you know me better than that.”

 

“So we’re taking the Zentorno to Vegas, yes,” Ryan finished his statement from earlier.

 

**

 

“Do we have to do the whole thing where you pretend you’re my mom and tell me to behave?” Ray asked.  Jack and Ryan had put the crate of weapons into the back of the Zentorno and they were getting ready to leave.  Ryan had run back upstairs to get something he’d forgotten.  Apparently Jack was the only one who cared enough to see them off, and she had hugged Ray so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe.

 

“No, no, you’re going to have a great time,” Jack replied, wiping her tears with one hand.  “Fuck shit up, make a mess, gamble away a few thousand dollars.  We can always get more.”

 

“Jack,” Ray said, reaching out to put an arm around her shoulder.  “Are you going to…miss us?”

 

“No!”

 

“I think you are,” Ray teased.

 

“I am,” Jack nodded.  Ray hugged her again.

 

“We’ll be fine,” Ray assured her.

 

“Heaven forbid, you two get into any trouble again, you call _me_ next time, okay?  I will come get you, I don’t care where you are or what time it is,” Jack said.

 

“Christ, Jack, you don’t have to worry about us that much!” Ray exclaimed.

 

“I’m your mother, it’s my job to worry about you,” Jack told him.

 

“I’m the good one, remember?” Ray joked.  Jack smiled.  The elevator door into the garage dinged, indicating Ryan’s arrival.

 

“Ready to go?” Ryan asked.  Ray nodded eagerly, hopping into the passenger side of the Zentorno.  Ryan followed suit, starting the engine.  Ray rolled down his window as they started pulling out of the garage.

 

“Bye Mom!” Ray shouted to Jack just as they took the corner.  “Love you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: VEGAS!!!
> 
> ps: i love jack. just saying.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for this? It occurred to me that I wanted to make a dumb joke that revolved around the characters ending up at a pride celebration and since that won't be for like 3 or 4 chapters, maybe I should post them if I ever want that joke to be relevant. Don't be disappointed when the joke never happens. I'll tell you what it was if I don't end up using it.
> 
> what happens in this chapter? oh idk, just guys being dudes  
> also i literally can't believe we're on chapter 15 already idk man time flies. i know you're all waiting for this fic to actually get good. i promise, this chapter is better.

“Dude, five hours is so long, why are we doing this?” Ray complained.  They were barely outside the Los Santos city limits and Ray had already had enough.

 

“Be honest, where is the farthest you’ve been away from Los Santos?” Ryan asked.

 

“I went to Puerto Rico when I was like 3, but I don’t remember it,” Ray repeated his stance from earlier in the week.

 

“But that you remember,” Ryan said.  “And in a car.”

 

“Jack took me to the Mexican border once,” Ray said.  “No race jokes.”

 

“Drug deal?” Ryan asked.  Ray nodded.  “I thought Fake AH doesn’t deal in drugs.”

 

“We used to,” Ray said.  “There was a brief period of time where we did almost exclusively drug deals.”

 

“How far away is the border?  2-3 hours?” Ryan guessed.

 

“Yeah, probably,” Ray said.  “It was just me and Jack.  I, uh… I remember I had to study for a big test and she was helping me.”

 

“So you’re saying that if I tried to teach you something, the time would pass better?” Ryan asked.  “What do you know about differential equations?”

 

“I don’t know what they are, but I don’t trust them,” Ray said.  “Please, for the love of god, don’t try to teach me anything.  I’m done learning stuff.”

 

“How do you propose we spend this time?” Ryan asked.  Ray immediately reached for the radio controls.

 

Our two favorite idiots spent the next five hours screaming their heads off like idiots to the their favorite hits, which I’m sure including a lot of dumb meme songs of Ray’s selection, and Africa by Toto (because it rains in Africa.  At least, I guess it does).

 

“I still say, we could have flown,” Ray said as he hauled his suitcase out of the space behind the front seat and set it on the ground.  Ryan had already checked them into their hotel suite and parked in the parking garage, and was now working on cleaning all the candy wrappers out of the space between the seats.

 

“We could not get that box onto a flight in this country,” Ryan said, indicating the solid box containing the weapons they were going to be dealing later than night.

 

“Jack owns a plane,” Ray said, as if it was obvious.

 

“You can’t fly and I’m not supposed to know how to fly,” Ryan replied.  “Jack would have had to fly us out here.”

 

“So?  It’s a fuckin Luxor, we could have banged in the back while she was flying,” Ray said.  Ryan rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m dating a man of very few interests,” Ryan said to no one in particular, maybe breaking the fourth wall and directly addressing the nonexistent audience.

 

“I have so many interests, Ryan,” Ray said.  “Maybe none of them are Invader Zim and that weeb shit, but I do have interests.”

 

“So I like anime, sue me,” Ryan replied.

 

“And I like football!” Ray shot back.  “I don’t like being in a car for five hours.  I need a shower and a nap.”

 

“This guy,” Ryan rolled his eyes again, leading the way to the elevator into the hotel.

 

When Ryan opened the door to their suite, Ray was flabberghasted.  Sure, he was used to living in a certain lap of luxury, having been at the penthouse since he was 12, and Geoff never neglected his boys if they wanted something.  Most of Gavin’s possessions were either solid gold or at least gold plated.  Ray had a car that cost a million dollars, for fucks sake, but he was not expecting their hotel suite to be _this nice_.

 

The view of the city was the first thing Ray noticed.  He left his suitcase near the door and immediately walked over to the windows.  It looked somehow different than Los Santos, so alive, full of people who were having the time of their lives on vacation, gambling, seeing shows… and not people who had overwhelmingly reached their full potential in life and turned to crime (though there was plenty of that in Vegas too).

 

“The lights sure are something, aren’t they?” Ryan asked, pulling both their suitcases into the bedroom, which was separate from the living area.

 

“You didn’t have to get something this fancy,” Ray said softly, trying not to touch the glass because he wasn’t an asshole, but not being able to help it, as he was so mesmerized.

 

“Only the best for you, my dear,” Ryan replied.  “Also, I take it you won’t believe me, but this isn’t anywhere near the nicest suite on the strip.  Most everything was booked solid.”

 

“Still,” Ray protested.  Ryan walked over to join Ray by the window.

 

“I know you’re accustomed to the penthouse life.  What good is a room without a view, right?”

 

“Me?  Accustomed to penthouse life?” Ray asked, pulling his eyes off the view and turning to look at Ryan, confused.  “I think you have me confused with Gavin again.  Sure, the penthouse is definitely better than being homeless, and it does have certain things my shitty apartment lacks, like a good internet connection and food that isn’t expired, but I’d rather be at your place any day.”

 

“Really?” Ryan asked, surprised.

 

“Yeah, of course.  Why wouldn’t I?” Ray replied.

 

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Ryan said.  If Ray didn’t know better,  he’d say maybe Ryan was blushing.  Ryan cleared his throat and turned away from the window.  “We have a few hours before the deal.  What do you want to do?  Hit the strip?  Do some gambling?”

 

“Do they have an arcade?” Ray asked.  Ryan laughed.

 

“I bet we could find an arcade,” Ryan agreed.

 

“I don’t want to be that guy, but can I shower before we do anything?  I feel like car,” Ray said.  Ryan laughed again.

 

“Sure.”

 

When Ray got out of the shower, he haphazardly threw whatever the first clothes he saw in his suitcase on his body, and ventured into the living room, to find Ryan playing whatever the newest iteration of Halo was, and raised his eyebrows.

 

“Playing without me?” Ray asked.

 

“I was bored?” Ryan said with a sheepish grin.  Ray laughed. 

 

“And you didn’t want to bring the xbox,” Ray reminded him.

 

“I figured we’d be too busy gambling away all our money and making friends with hookers,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“Obviously, you overestimated the amount of time either of us likes to spend outside,” Ray said.  “C’mon, man, arcade.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Ryan said, standing up from the couch and grabbing his leather jacket.

 

“God, that’s a spicy jacket,” Ray said.

 

“Why are you so fixated on the jacket?!” Ryan asked for what felt like the 14th time.

 

“It’s nice!  I like it!” Ray replied defensively.

 

“God, just take the damn thing,” Ryan flung the jacket in Ray’s general direction, to which Ray offered a weak and sarcastic yay noise before donning said jacket and dropping his purple hoodie to the floor.

 

“Do I look fly?” Ray asked.  Ryan surveyed him.

 

“Looks good,” Ryan finally nodded.  “What kind of arcade games are we looking for?”

 

“Basically anything.  Are you prepared to get your shit pushed in?” Ray asked.

 

“I’m always prepared for that,” Ryan agreed.  _Phrasing_.  Ryan directed them to the first arcade he found via google maps and he’d never seen Ray’s face light up in quite that way before.

 

“Do you have any quarters?” Ray asked, bouncing up and down in his excitement to play.

 

“I can make quarters.”  Ryan turned a 20 into change and Ray immediately started kicking Ryan’s ass at every arcade game.  But Ryan was a good sport about it (unlike Gavin who pouted and sulked for days after a trip to the arcade).  “Surely there must be some game you haven’t done the arcade equivalent of perfected yet.”

 

“Uh…” Ray surveyed the arcade.  “I don’t see one?”

 

“How are you even good at real life basketball?” Ryan asked.  Ray shrugged.

 

“Play DDR with me,” Ray said, still full of energy somehow.

 

“I cannot,” Ryan shook his head.

 

“Fine, I’ll play by myself,” Ray sighed dramatically.  “Hold your jacket.”  Ray shrugged off Ryan’s leather jacket and handed it to him, then fished a few quarters out of his shorts pocket.

 

“Is your name on your t-shirt?” Ryan asked.  Ray looked down at the t-shirt he was wearing, a dark grey one with the Fakes’ logo on the front that he’d had for about a year and a half and used to wear more than he did now.  It had BrownMan written on the back of it in a faded green that matched the logo.  Gavin and Michael had them too, printed with Gavino and Mogar, respectively.

 

“Yeah, Lindsay got them for the Lads a while ago,” Ray said.  “I think she actually got one for Jeremy recently.  He’s a Lad, obviously, but he wasn’t here before, and now he is.”  Ray put his quarters into the DDR machine.  “Fair warning, I’m not saying I’m good, I just like it, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Ryan agreed.  In Ryan’s opinion, Ray was awesome, but he had no frame of reference, so Ray’s actual skill level will remain a mystery.

 

“Am I good?” Ray panted after he finished. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan nodded.  “I hate to rain on the fuck train, but–”

 

“No brakes!” Ray interrupted, doing the fuck train movement.

 

“But we have to get to our appointment,” Ryan continued. 

 

“Awesome,” Ray agreed.  “Let’s go.”

 

Their ‘appointment’ as it were was with a gang Jack had had connections with back in her days as a boss, back when she had her own crew, and she’d been dealing weapons with them for years.  Geoff had gladly accepted this fact and the deals had continued after the merger of the two crews.

 

“Who used to make weapons for Jack’s crew before you did?” Ray asked.

 

“Nobody,” Ryan said.  Ray frowned.  The timeline… Ray wasn’t the best with dates, but he was pretty alright at simple math and it wasn’t adding up.

 

“Jack retired when Gav and I were freshmen,” Ray said.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded, putting the Zentorno in gear and pulling out of the parking garage to head to the meetup point.

 

“But that would have been before the Great Immortality Incident of 2005 or whatever the fuck it’s called,” Ray said.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said again, not really betraying any useful information.

 

“You were the weapons developer for the Pattillo crew before you were immortal,” Ray summarized.

 

“It was a job,” Ryan said, not at all defensively, but rather as if they were just stating facts back and forth to each other.  Ray didn’t respond to that, so Ryan pressed.  “Why does it matter?”

 

“It’s just fuckin wild,” Ray laughed.  “How much I still don’t know about you, Ryan.”

 

“A diabetic once tried to assassinate me at a red light,” Ryan offered as new and potentially interesting information.

 

“Okay, we’re going to come back to that, because _what the fuck_ , but what were you doing designing weapons for a gang back when you were all Mr. Perfect Husband?” Ray asked.

 

“Ah, well… you know… it’s complicated,” Ryan said.  “I was in a bad way, and I needed money.  Designing, making, and selling weapons was well within my wheelhouse, and that’s where the money is in Los Santos.”

 

“I’m guessing, once you can design, make, and sell weapons, learning to use them isn’t a huge stretch?” Ray asked.

 

“You got it,” Ryan nodded.  “All weapons need testing, of course.  There’s a whole section of the bunker dedicated to weapons testing.  Geoff’s completely right to ask me to join up every time he comes out to pick up the weapons.  Jack got me first.  I needed money.  That’s why most people get into this business.  It’s not about wanting to do it, it’s necessity for most people.  Obviously, your family excluded.  Not everyone is born into crime royalty.”

 

“Technically, no one has been.  The Lads were all adopted,” Ray pointed out.

 

“You know what I mean.”  Ryan slowed the car to a crawl as they approached the warehouse where they were to make the deal.  “Okay, rules, again, because I know we went over this before.  Don’t draw a weapon unless they pull one first, in which case, shoot first, ask questions later, get the money.”

 

“I know,” Ray nodded.

 

“I’ll do all the talking, just try to look intimidating,” Ryan advised.  Ray snorted.  “Okay, well… look bored.  It intimidates people more than you think.”

 

“Can do,” Ray nodded.

 

“Just a question, because you never know when this might come up,” Ryan said, “but how fast can you disassemble and/or reassemble your sniper rifle?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ray shrugged.  “Pretty fast, I guess?  I’ve never timed it.”  Ryan nodded and opened his car door, not bothering to close it after he got out.  (Makes for a faster getaway, he’d told Ray at some point when Ray pointed out he was wasting his car battery.)  He popped the trunk and checked the box with the weapons in it.  Two big men with guns came out of the warehouse.  They looked more intimidating than anyone Ray had ever dealt with, but Ryan wasn’t fazed.  Ray slung his rifle across his back and leaned against the car, trying to look casual.

 

“Evening, gentlemen,” Ryan greeted them cheerfully.

 

“Evening, Haywood,” one of them replied.  “On time today.  That’s a first in years.”

 

“I like to keep it interesting,” Ryan said.  “I brought your weapons, that’s the important thing, wouldn’t you say?” 

 

“Mmm,” the guy said.  He approached the vehicle, where the box was still in the trunk.  Ryan allowed him to look in the box and verify his ‘order’.  As he reached out to touch one, Ryan let the lid fall closed and the guy retracted his hand quickly.

 

“What is it you always say?” Ryan asked Ray, almost lazily.  “Hands off the merchandise?”  Ray nodded with a grin.  “Where’s my money, Walsh?”  The first guy signaled to the second guy with some kind of head jerk and the second guy dropped a bag full of bills on the ground at Ryan’s feet.  Ryan, still with a bored look on his face, picked it up and glanced in it.  Apparently it was to his satisfaction, because he gestured to the box, indicating Walsh and his buddy could take it from the trunk.  “Always nice doing business with you gents.”

 

“Indeed,” Walsh agreed.  He and his buddy retreated into their warehouse.  Ryan indicated Ray should get in the car.  Both doors shut, Ryan started the car and drove a little ways down the road before he stopped and turned to Ray.

 

“How good are you with grenades?” Ryan asked.

 

“Not great,” Ray admitted.  “Why?”

 

“Nah, no reason,” Ryan said, pulling out his phone and calling Jack.  “Yeah, it’s done.  It’s only 75, I thought the deal was 100.  Of course I’m _sure_ , Jack.  This isn’t the first time they’ve pulled this shit.  …  I think they changed management.  …  Can do, boss.”  Ryan hung up.  “How many guns did you bring?”

 

“Enough,” Ray said with a slight grin.  Ryan twisted in his seat to grab his mask, pulling it over his head.  He tossed Ray some body armor and his hoodie.  They both got out of the car again, putting on armor and locking and loading their weapons.  “What’s the plan?”

 

“Wreck em,” Ryan said with an evil chuckle.  Ray grinned, seeing the fire light in Ryan’s eyes.  Maybe his murder break had been good for his mental health, but it was easy to tell he’d been itching to end it for weeks.

 

It had been such a long time since Ray had been in the thick of an honest-to-god shootout, and he’d forgotten how much he loved it, cackling right alongside Ryan as they ripped through the crew who had dared try to scam Fake AH.  Ryan had a micro-SMG in one hand and was throwing grenades with the other, having the time of his life.  Ray had a full-size SMG, mowing down the 15 or 20 guys in the warehouse with ease, ducking expertly around bullets like he was living in slow motion.  Ryan easily found Walsh, and pushed him to the ground.

 

“You should have known better, Walsh,” Ryan told him, holding his gun on Walsh with one hand, and using the other to pull off his mask so he could speak clearly.

 

“Haywood?  You’re – you – no!” Walsh stuttered.  Ryan grinned fully and chuckled darkly.

 

“Where’s the rest of my money?” Ryan asked.  Walsh pointed in a direction and Ray skipped in that direction, searching high and low until he found a canvas bag with maybe 20 grand in it.

 

“It’s here,” Ray told Ryan.

 

“Good, good,” Ryan smiled.  “Now tell me, where is your money?  You won’t be needing it anymore, I assure you.”

 

“In – in the safe,” Walsh stuttered out.  Ray calmly walked to the safe and waited for Ryan to get the code out of Walsh, which Walsh spat out without much more threatening.  Ray scooped all the cash in the safe into the canvas bag and slung it over his shoulder.  Ryan kicked Walsh in the stomach and backed up a few feet, so his gun was no longer pressed against Walsh’s face.

 

“Run,” Ryan said, grin still on his face.  Walsh scrambled to his feet, but didn’t get fifteen feet before Ryan shot him.  “That’s my favorite part.  When they think they get to live.”  He chuckled.  “What a nice warehouse I’ve acquired here today.  Shame about the décor.”  He looked around at the bodies lying in pools of blood around them.  “Oh well.  Get the money in the car, I’ll take care of this.”  He picked up a can of lighter fluid and started dumping it on the floor.  Ray started walking to the car and had almost reached it when he heard an explosion behind him, and turned.  The entire warehouse had gone up in a small mushroom cloud.

 

“Jesus, Ryan!” Ray shouted.  “The last thing we need is Vegas cops after us!”

 

“They have better things to do,” Ryan replied, walking up the hill slowly, dragging the box of weapons they’d brought to sell.  “And we still have these.”

 

“Something tells me Jack won’t be thrilled,” Ray said, helping Ryan shove the box back in the trunk and dropping his SMG with it.

 

“Something tells me she won’t know if we take some of this to the casinos,” Ryan grinned, dropping his guns and mask in the trunk as well.  Ray winced as he reached up to close the trunk.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ray said, shaking his left arm out, and then grimacing with pain again.  “Seriously, I’ll be fine in a little while, I swear.”

 

“Let me see,” Ryan said, pushing the remote start on the Zentorno so they could stand in the headlights.

 

“It’s fine!” Ray insisted, but gingerly pulled his arm out of his hoodie (he’d fortunately had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows during the fight, so his precious hoodie hadn’t suffered any serious damage) to show Ryan where a bullet had gone straight between his two forearm bones and out the other side.

 

“Jesus!” Ryan said.  “I’m surprised you’re still on your feet!”

 

“I’m not Gavin,” Ray rolled his eyes, pulling his hoodie off entirely and turning to get in the car.  “I’ll be fine.  Remember?”

 

“At least let me wrap it up,” Ryan said.  “There’s a hole in your arm!”

 

“Yeah!  Crazy!” Ray said, waving said arm in the air and this time ignoring the pain.  To be honest, all the arguing was beginning to make him feel lightheaded.  Ryan was immediately at his side with gauze and an ACE bandage, showing extreme care in stark contrast to the way he’d taken out the crew just minutes before.  “Thanks,” Ray muttered, even though he didn’t really need it.  He’d be completely healed before they knew it, maybe an hour or two.

 

“No problem, that’s why I’m here,” Ryan said.  “Now, come on, let’s get back to the hotel room.”

 

“Now that you mention it, I could go for a nap with my favorite pillow,” Ray said with a yawn.

 

“Am I the pillow?”

 

“Yeah.”  Ray leaned on his seatbelt, trying to get comfy so maybe he could begin his nap early.  “Tell me the story of how a diabetic tried to assassinate you.”

 

“Oh boy,” Ryan began.  As Ryan regaled Ray with the not-as-interesting-as-it-originally-had-sounded story and drove them back to the hotel, Ray’s body effectively shut off his higher executive functions to refocus most of his cellular energy on regeneration.  Ray retained just enough brainpower to register what Ryan was saying, but not bothering to respond.  Ryan understood what he was doing, he’d done the same countless times for his own injuries. 

 

By the time they arrived back in the hotel parking garage, Ryan had already made up his mind he was going to carry Ray upstairs so he didn’t have to disturb him, but Ray yawned, stretched, and unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to go, as if he hadn’t been shot and nothing had happened.

 

“Just like that?” Ryan asked, impressed.

 

“Nah,” Ray said, shaking his head.  “It’ll be a while.  Figured I could at least pretend to be an adult and walk my own ass upstairs.”

 

“I was going to carry you,” Ryan confessed.

 

“Aww, you’re sweet,” Ray smiled.  “I’m fine, really.  I have feet, you know.  It’s not that serious of an injury.  Save the cute shit for next time.”

 

“I thought you liked the cute shit,” Ryan said, crossing his arms with a frown.

 

“I do,” Ray insisted, “but now that all the adrenaline and shit from the fight has worn off, it actually really is starting to hurt, so I just want to get upstairs as fast as possible.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Ryan relented, exiting the car.  Ray did the same, and they made their way up to their room.  Ray stumbled into the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, did a sweet somersault into the middle of the bed, and all but passed out.  “I’m going to take a shower to get rid of this blood and gasoline, and I’ll be right there,” Ryan told him, but Ray was gone to the world.  He barely registered about 20 minutes later when Ryan cuddled up next to him, trying to get him into a natural sleeping position without waking him up, and almost managing it.

 

“Huh?” Ray muttered, trying and failing to open his eyes, due to an unprecedented level of exhaustion.  Jesus, all this for one measly bullet wound?  Someone remind Ray to never get fucking shot again.  Too much work.  Mortals would almost be healed faster.

 

“Shh, you’re fine,” Ryan assured him.

 

“Love you,” Ray mumbled, worming his way closer to Ryan.  Ryan pulled the blanket over them and wrapped his arm over Ray’s back.

 

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: blackjack! and hookers! in fact, forget about the next chapter! and the blackjack! nah, just forget the whole thing....   
> for real next time: more vegas and some drama? maybe? idk... i do know, why am i lying to you?
> 
> you know what this fic needs? exactly what nobody asked for: 400% more jack. do not ask and ye shall receive! More Jack on the way!!!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so ... this chapter's good... i would say /almost/ worth the wait...
> 
> (tbh im really sorry i sort of starting bingeing more ah content and lost track of time for like... three weeks?)
> 
> enjoy~!

When Ray woke up several hours later, Ryan’s arm was still curled around him as if he hadn’t moved.  The sun was about to rise, meaning it was early, and Ray could faintly hear the television, meaning Ryan was awake.  Ray struggled to move and Ryan’s arm immediately retracted.  Ray frowned, unable to see, realizing Ryan must have taken his glasses from him the night before.  Suddenly something hard was near his right hand.  Ryan was handing him his glasses.  Ray whined in his throat and pushed his glasses onto his face, squinting at the TV as Ryan turned the volume up.

 

_The fire in the warehouse does not appear to be any natural means, but in fact the sign of a gang attack.  Though we are uncertain what gang, we have a report that a crew from  Los Santos might be in the area.  More on this at 6.  Back to you, Steve._

 

“Fuck,” Ray muttered, rolling over and putting his face in the pillow.

 

“If you really want to, I guess, I’m down if you are,” Ryan replied, sounding a lot more awake than Ray did.  Ray made a ‘pff’ noise through his nose, enough to tell Ryan he’d thought his joke was not terribly funny, but recognized that it was a joke.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” Ray said into the pillow.

 

“Your arm doesn’t hurt?” Ryan asked.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Ray said, turning his head to face Ryan.  “It’s been hours, I’m sure it’s healed by now.”  Ryan looked super concerned about it anyway and Ray sighed, sitting up and presenting his formerly wounded arm to his boyfriend.  “I don’t know whether it’s cute or annoying that you care so much.  It was one measly bullet hole.  What would you have done if it was more?  What if I’d taken one to the stomach?  Or the head?”

 

“In the moment?  I’m not sure what I’d’ve done,” Ryan said, carefully unwrapping the bandage he’d put on Ray the night before.  “I don’t know how you expect me to not care.  I don’t want to see you hurt.”  Ray’s arm was good as new, healed by his immortal level of regeneration.

 

“In our line of work?  It could happen,” Ray pointed out.  “In the thick of a job, or a heist, or a car chase.  In a fiery explosion, if you let Gavin near you with a flying vehicle…  It’s what we do, Ryan.”

 

“Jack might have told me something she probably shouldn’t have,” Ryan admitted, rolling up the ace bandage and setting it aside.

 

“What’s that?” Ray asked, retracting his arm and frowning at Ryan.

 

“You… y’know,” Ryan said awkwardly.  “The process is slow, for you.”

 

“So?” Ray asked with a slight shrug.  “It’s different for everybody.  At least I know mine’s slow.  You don’t know what yours is like.”

 

“I will, soon enough,” Ryan said.

 

“I’m going back to sleep,” Ray said, yawning hugely and slamming his face back into the pillows.  His glasses dug painfully into his face and he groaned, reaching up to take them off and generally fling them at Ryan, who Ray was sure would take care of them.

 

When Ray woke again, Ryan was gone from the bedroom and Ray was awake enough to think maybe being awake was a good idea, so he fumbled around for his glasses once again, shoved them back on his face, and stumbled out of bed.  Ryan was in the kitchenette of the hotel suite, messing about with food.  His phone was lying on the countertop, on speaker, and a very angry sounding Geoff was firmly berating him.

 

“I send you to Vegas for _one weapons deal_ together and you blow up a goddamn warehouse!” Geoff screamed.  “I can’t trust you to do anything, anymore, Ryan.  What the _fuck_?!”

 

“Sorry, boss, sometimes you just gotta blow something up,” Ryan said.

 

“I thought you were better than this,” Geoff was still angry, but now disappointed too.  Ray walked up to Ryan and put his arms around him in a hug, putting his chin on Ryan’s shoulder.  “I don’t know whether Ray’s a bad influence on you, or if you’re a worse influence on him!”

 

“C’mon, Dad, it was fun,” Ray interjected.  “Can’t two guys go on vacation together anymore?  What is this, some kind of hate crime?  When can my love be legal?”

 

“Don’t pull that bullshit again,” Geoff snapped.  Ray used ‘everything you do to me is a hate crime because I’m gay and Spanish’ far too often for Geoff or anyone who knew him to ever take him seriously.  That and Ray had never been serious like one (1) time in his entire life ever.

 

“Worth a shot,” Ray muttered, letting go of Ryan to sample some of the breakfast that was on the counter. 

 

“Should I tell him?” Ryan whispered.  Ray shrugged.

 

“Your funeral,” Ray responded, heading for the couch in the living room, and just assuming (correctly) that Ryan would bring him a plate of breakfast in a minute.

 

“Geoff, honestly, you should know by now.  The worst mistake you can make in this line of work is allowing the Vagabond to get bored,” Ryan said.  Geoff began to form a reply but stopped halfway through as if something had clicked in his brain.

 

“Ryan,” Geoff said, gritting his teeth.  “You better be fucking with me.”

 

“No, sir,” Ryan replied, gathering different bits of the breakfast he’d ordered from room service onto two plates so he and Ray could enjoy it in the living room.

 

“I’m giving you the chance to tell me you’re fucking with me,” Geoff repeated.

 

“I’ve _been_ fucking with you.  I’m coming clean about it now,” Ryan said.  “The duality of man.”

 

“The _duality of man_ ,” Geoff spat back at him, mocking.  “When you get home, you and I are going to have a very long conversation about the duality of man, let me tell you!”

 

“But we like it here, Geoff.  We’re thinking of starting our own crew,” Ryan joked, balancing both plates on one arm so he could pick up his phone and take it with him to the couch.  Ray took one of the plates and dug in.

 

“Good luck, assholes,” Geoff said, still clearly very angry.  “I can’t believe you kept this from me for… Jesus!  For years, Ryan!  What the _fuck_?!”

 

“You said yourself, it’s a decent shtick and you wished you’d thought of it,” Ray pointed out calmly.

 

“Don’t give him compliments!” Geoff complained.

 

“Why not?  He’s my boyfriend,” Ray shrugged.

 

“And you knew about this?” Geoff rounded on Ray.

 

“Dude, everyone knows,” Ray replied.

 

“Except Michael,” Ryan reminded him.

 

“Oh, yeah, everyone in the main crew but Michael,” Ray corrected himself.

 

“Jack and Gavin know?!” Geoff nearly screamed.

 

“Oh, fuckin of course Jack and Gavin know, are you kidding?” Ray laughed.  “Dude.  Get your shit together.”  The line beeped to signify Geoff had hung up on them and Ray laughed again.  “Dude.”

 

“That could have gone better,” Ryan said, “although, I suppose, it could have gone worse in many ways as well.”  They ate their breakfast and enjoyed whatever show was on the TV for about twenty minutes, then Ryan’s phone rang again.  “I don’t want to deal with this today,” he complained before accepting the call and putting it on speaker.  “Hi Jack.”

 

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Jack said as a greeting.

 

“Good to hear from you too.  Everything going alright at home?” Ryan asked conversationally.  “Can we deal with this when I get back?  I’m trying to enjoy my vacation.”

 

“I spent an hour this morning when we got the news coming up with a story of how our mild-mannered weapons guy had suddenly decided to blow up a warehouse after killing everyone in it and you just go and do that?” Jack asked.  “You could have at least warned me so I didn’t waste my time.”

 

“It was kind of in the moment,” Ryan admitted.

 

“I tried to stop him,” Ray said.

 

“No you didn’t,” Ryan frowned.  Ray shrugged.  “Don’t lie in front of your mother.”

 

“You’d better be back by 3pm Monday.  The Lads are going out, and the three of us are going to have a very long talk about how this affects the future of this crew,” Jack sighed.

 

“The three of us?” Ryan asked.

 

“The Gents,” Jack clarified.

 

“Oh, you’re in big trouble,” Ray laughed.

 

“Nothing has to change,” Ryan said.  “I’m still me and everything is the same.”

 

“Well Geoff can’t wrap his dumb head around it, so until he drinks himself smarter, that’s the plan,” Jack shot back.  “Enjoy the rest of your vacation, we’ll see you on Monday.  Try not to cause any more trouble.”

 

“She thinks she knows me so well, you know that?” Ryan said to Ray, hanging up his phone and pocketing it.

 

“She really does,” Ray replied.  “How long have you known Jack?”

 

“A very, very long time,” Ryan admitted.

 

“Like before you started working for her?” Ray asked.

 

“Oh yeah,” Ryan nodded.  “Eat your breakfast.”  Ryan, finished with his breakfast, took his plate to the counter and headed into the bedroom to get dressed or whatever it was he needed to do in there.  Ray frowned after him, tired of not getting whole stories out of Ryan at any given time.  Ray shoved the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth and left his plate on the coffeetable, scampering into the bedroom to head off Ryan before he could do something annoying like take another shower.  Like calm down, Ry, how many showers can one man need?  [I should do a shower counter per character in this fic.  I think it’s like Ryan: at least 5, ray: 1, everyone else: 0.  Everyone else needs to serious step up their game.  Those dirty motherfuckers.]

 

“So what are we doing today?” Ray asked, diving onto the bed and rolling into a pose while Ryan dug around in his suitcase for clothing.

 

“Probably hit the casino, have a late lunch/early dinner, and then see a show?” Ryan suggested.

 

“I don’t know how to play poker,” Ray shook his head.

 

“Do you know how to pull a lever?” Ryan asked.  “We could play the slot machines.”

 

“Jack did make me promise to blow a few grand while we were here,” Ray agreed.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“You don’t win?” Ryan guessed.  “Let’s be honest, we are immortals with cash to burn.  We could do a lot worse in Sin City than losing a few grand on gambling.”

 

“We also killed like 20 dudes last night,” Ray pointed out.

 

“Nah,” Ryan scoffed.

 

“I mean, we did,” Ray said.

 

“Nah.”

 

“Okay, fair enough,” Ray shrugged.  “If Vegas is called Sin City, how is that different to Vice City?”

 

“I’ll be honest, I thought people meant Vegas when they said Vice City until I was like 17,” Ryan said.  Ray burst out laughing.  “What?  It’s an honest mistake!”

 

“Ryan, you’re old enough to actually _remember_ Miami Vice!” Ray pointed out.

 

“Oh.  Is that what they mean?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Jesus Christ,” Ray said, falling out of his pose that Ryan was never going to turn around and see, to land flat on his back in shame.

 

**

 

“How are you doing?” Ryan asked Ray.

 

“I’ll be honest, I really hate being around this many people,” Ray admitted.  “I thought this was going to be a lot more fun than I’m having, and I’m really sorry.”

 

“No, it’s my fault.  It’s what I get for bringing an introvert to Vegas,” Ryan chuckled.  “How about we just stay in tonight and play Halo?”

 

“Keep saying stuff like that and you might get laid eventually,” Ray told him.

 

“Eventually?!” Ryan said in shock and horror.  “Ray, please.”

 

“I love it when you beg,” Ray grinned, leaning back in his seat.

 

“Ray!” Ryan exclaimed.

 

“Yeah,” Ray grinned.  “Say my name.”

 

“We’re in public,” Ryan berated him.

 

“We’re in Vegas!” Ray said.  “C’mon, Ry, live a little.”  Ray returned to his lunch and Ryan shook his head in disbelief.  Ray was going to be the death of him.

 

**

 

_A heist, a bullet, a gun.  One final stand in front of the bank as a distraction while the other members of the crew took the money out the back.  Immortals didn’t need an escape route.  They already had one – death.  Ray took bullet after bullet but never seemed to go down.  He felt more than saw Ryan go down beside him.  Dead, on the street, bleeding out from more holes than Ray had ever seen in one person.  Nothing and no one else mattered.  The LSPD and their guns seemed to fade away.  Ryan was dead on the pavement.  In the moment, even the thought that he would surely respawn didn’t cross Ray’s mind, he dropped to his knees and sobbed over Ryan’s body._

_Geoff and Jack took Ryan’s body to a safe house.  Ray didn’t know the location.  He cried into Gavin’s shoulder for what seemed like countless hours.  Ryan returned to the crew after too many days and Ray didn’t let him out of his sight._

_He was Ryan, he was happy, he was perfect, and funny, and sexy.  He was the Vagabond, he was terrifying, he was deadly, and careless, and cold.  Ray was frozen to the spot as he watched Ryan’s body flicker like an old television only to be replaced with the murderous Vagabond.  One that couldn’t be talked down, one that only killed, one that never had a soft spot for Ray or the crew.  One who raised a gun at Ray, when Ray would never return the action –_

Ray awoke with a jolt.  He must have shook the bed, because Ryan mumbled something next to him and shifted slightly in his sleep.  Ray’s heart was beating nearly three times faster than usual.  He grabbed his glasses and slid out of the bed in a panic, putting his back to the wall opposite.  All their weapons were in Ryan’s car except…  No.

 

It was a dream, it was only a dream.

 

But it was a very real dream, a dream that could easily become reality.  Ray walked with his back to the wall, eyes never leaving Ryan’s sleeping form until he was in the living room of their hotel room.  He turned on every light, grabbed the only gun in the suite, and tried to breathe.

 

Ryan would never hurt him.  It was only a dream.  Ryan loved him and he loved Ryan.

 

But Ryan wasn’t Ryan when Ryan was the Vagabond.  The Vagabond was a death machine who didn’t bat an eyelash over ten or twenty or a hundred dead civilians.  He certainly wouldn’t hesitate just because Ray was in his way.

 

But that _wasn’t Ryan_.  Ryan would never hurt him.

 

Ray was overwhelmed with his thoughts and did the only thing that made sense – called Gavin.  _Now_ , at 2:30am.

 

“Please, please, please, please, pick up,” Ray whispered as he listened to the phone ring.  He was sitting in the furthest corner of their hotel suite from the bedroom door, knees tucked against his chest, back pushed into the seam of the two walls with his combat pistol in one hand, ready to fend off an attack.  Ray felt tears start pricking as he heard Gavin’s voicemail pick up, but he slammed the end call button and dialed again.  “C’mon,” Ray whispered.

 

“Wot?” Gavin answered, annoyed and very British.

 

“Gav, it’s me, I need to talk to you,” Ray said.

 

“Right now?” Gavin asked.

 

“Yeah, right now, it’s important,” Ray said.

 

“Sorry, love,” Gavin murmured away from the phone (Ray assumed it was aimed at Meg), and in a few moments, Gavin said, “alright, what is it?”

 

Ray recounted his dream and his fears to Gavin, while Gavin listened, to his credit.

 

“I’m fucking scared and I don’t know what to do,” Ray finished.

 

“Do you have a gun?” Gavin asked.

 

“Yeah.  Combat Pistol,” Ray said.  He put his phone between his shoulder and his ear to check the clip.  “Extended clip, half full.”  He shoved the clip back into the gun.

 

“Unload it,” Gavin instructed him.  Ray hesitated.  “Yes, you’re scared, but probability is Ryan won’t hurt you.  If he does, a handful of bullets is not going to stop him, he’ll only be pissed off.”  Ray saw the point and grudgingly released the clip once more.  “You’re scared, you don’t want to do something you’ll regret later.”

 

“Okay, yeah,” Ray agreed.

 

“But keep it close enough so that you can load it again if you need to.  If he does try something, I want you to put a bullet in his skull and get the next flight back to Los Santos,” Gavin said.  “Do you want me to come get you?  I will.  I can call Lester and have a helicopter in ten minutes.”

 

“No, Gav, I can handle it.  I think,” Ray said, trying to regulate his breathing again.  “You’re right.  He’s just Ryan.  He’s my boyfriend.”

 

“And he loves you,” Gavin reminded Ray.  “You’re probably just worried about him doing the reset, that’s all.”

 

“No, you think?” Ray asked sarcastically.  “What am I going to do?”

 

“We’ll deal with it when we get there,” Gavin said.  “No need to fret now.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Ray agreed again.  “You’re right.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come get you?  I’ve never flown a helicopter at night, but it can’t be that difficult, right?” Gavin asked.

 

“No, no, it’s okay.  I’ll be fine,” Ray assured him.

 

“Do you think maybe you’re homesick?” Gavin asked.  “You’ve never been that far from home.”

 

“I’m a grown ass man, I’m not getting homesick just because I went a few hours away,” Ray said, although he thought maybe he was, just a little bit.  Even staying at Ryan’s house was different, because if he wanted to, he could leave and be back at the penthouse in five minutes.  Maybe it was just the introvert in Ray, maybe he hated change a lot more than he always joked he did.  “We’ll be home on Monday, though, it’s not that long.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Gavin replied, though that was a lie.  They hadn’t been gone quite two days yet, and they wouldn’t be back for another two, more like two and a half.  “I’ll be here when you get back.  We’re doing some more training with Lil J, you can come with us.”

 

“Yeah, like Geoff will let me,” Ray said.  “At least in Vegas I don’t have _Dad_ telling me what I can and can’t do.”

 

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.  It’ll be top, X-Ray, I promise,” Gavin said.

 

“Alright,” Ray agreed.  “I’m sorry for waking you up, Vav.  I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

 

“You can call me whenever,” Gavin told him.  “Whatever you need.”

 

“Yeah, get back to bed, you crazy kid,” Ray chuckled.  Gavin laughed and they both hung up.  Everything was fine.  Definitely nothing to be afraid of.  Definitely not going back to sleep though, and even in Vegas, 3 in the morning is a bit early for breakfast.  Ray stood up slowly, bringing his gun and the half full clip with him (just in case), and moved to the couch.  Halo it was.

 

It was several hours before Ryan awoke and confusedly made his way into the living room, blinking at the sudden light.

 

“You’re up early?” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah,” Ray replied, not sparing a glance at Ryan.

 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You okay?”

 

_No._

 

“Maybe.”

 

“You’ve got a gun in your lap,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“I was scared.”

 

“Of what?”

 

_You._

 

“Nothing,” Ray said.

 

“Bad dream?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryan asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

_Because I’m still afraid you’re going to kill me_.

 

“It’s fine,” Ray said, finally sparing a glance for Ryan.  He was the epitome of the tired dad.  Plaid pajama bottoms, an old t-shirt with a dumb slogan from some event he’d probably gone to four years ago, hair sticking up, leaning on the door jamb.  “I love you.”

 

“I love you,” Ryan replied.  “You sure you’re okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Ray nodded.

 

“Okay,” Ryan agreed.  “I’m gonna put in the breakfast order.  Do you want anything?”  Ray rattled off a few things he might eat for breakfast and continued his game.  Ryan put in the order for room service, then went back to the bedroom to get dressed, and maybe use the bathroom.  He hadn’t come back by the time there was a knock on the door.

 

“Rye?  Room service is here!” Ray called in the direction of the bedroom.  No response.  Ray rolled his eyes heavily and got up from the couch, loading his gun and putting it in the back of his pants as he usually did.  When he opened the door, he saw not room service, but Jack.  Surprise, motherfucker.  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

“Who ordered the mushroom omelet?” Jack asked cheerily, pushing the cart of food into the room.

 

“No, what the fuck are you doing here?” Ray asked.

 

“Gavin was worried, I had to come make sure you were okay,” Jack said.

 

“Jesus Christ, Jack, I’m a big boy, I don’t need you to come check on me cuz I had a bad dream,” Ray said.  “If Ryan finds out you’re here, I’m never going to hear the end of this.”  Ryan took that exact second to briskly reenter the living area, and stopped, frowning at Jack.

 

“Jack?  What are you doing here?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah.  Now look what you did,” Ray said to Jack.  “Don’t ever listen to Gavin, I swear to God.”  Ray stormed through the bedroom into the bathroom and slammed the door.

 

To his chagrin, both Jack and Gavin were sitting at the dining table in the kitchen area, eating, when Ray returned to the main room.

 

“Of course you did,” Ray sighed before either of them could say anything.  “Enjoy your breakfast, and you can go back to Los Santos.”

 

“We’re on vacation,” Jack smiled.

 

“Great,” Ray said, not meaning it for a second.  He took the breakfast Ryan held out for him and followed Ryan to join the other two at the table.

 

“Gavin said he missed you, and he made Jack get out of bed and fly him all the way here so he could make sure you were okay,” Ryan filled Ray in.

 

“Of course he did,” Ray repeated.  “Someone needs to learn to let go.  We’re adults, Gav, c’mon.”

 

“I had a bad dream,” Gavin confessed, and Ray wondered if that was true, if Gavin had gone to sleep after they’d gotten off the phone and had some terrible nightmare.

 

“Won’t Geoff be wondering why the other half of his crew flew off to Vegas without his knowledge?” Ryan asked conversationally.

 

“Geoff drunk himself stupid yesterday after _someone_ proved they can’t keep their mouth shut without their mask on,” Jack threw at Ryan.

 

“My bad,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“Griffon’s there with him, he’ll probably be okay,” Jack said.  “Boy was he angry yesterday.  Haven’t seen him start drinking before 11am in years.”

 

“Remember that time he woke up at 5, started drinking, passed out, and Griffon had to make sure we got to school?” Gavin asked Ray, laughing.

 

“I actually don’t.  Are you sure it wasn’t before I joined?” Ray asked.

 

“Coulda been,” Gavin nodded.

 

“Do you two want to stick around for the day?” Ryan asked.  Ray groaned.  “I was thinking maybe we’d go shopping.”

 

“We can if you want, Gav, they’re not going to tow the Luxor,” Jack told Gavin.

 

“We probably shouldn’t,” Gavin said, for once not choosing the option that would piss the most amount of people off.  “Turney will be wondering where I am soon anyhow.”

 

“You didn’t tell her?” Ray and Ryan asked at almost the same time.

 

“No, she doesn’t need to know where I am every second of the day and night,” Gavin said.  It was aimed at Ryan and Ray smirked, because he 100% agreed.

 

“I’m sure she doesn’t need to, but she might appreciate it,” Ryan replied.  “While you’re here, Jack, would you mind taking our weapons and some of this cash back to base?  It would reduce the risk of us getting picked up by Vegas PD.”

 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Jack agreed.  “We should probably reach out for new buyers too.”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded.  “I’ll start the hunt when we get home.”  Jack nodded.

 

After breakfast, Jack and Ryan took the weapons and cash out to the Luxor, leaving Gavin and Ray alone in the hotel room for a few minutes.

 

“Here,” Gavin said, shoving something into Ray’s hand.  Ray stared at it. 

 

“What’s this?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s one of the most powerful tasers available,” Gavin said.  Ray’s eyes bugged out, realizing what the small electric razor-looking thing in his hand was.  As opposed to being the kind that shot barbs, it was the close range variety that simply emitted electric shocks at a very high voltage directly onto a target – a handheld cattle prod, if you will… And the best thing about it?  It was the same color pink as Ray’s guns and Nintendo DS.  This particular one was not technically legal to use on humans, as the voltage was high enough to kill a normal person in seconds.

 

“Gav, these are _illegal_!” Ray insisted, trying to give it back to him.

 

“I’m really worried about you,” Gavin admitted.  “You _know_ what he did to Turney.  I can’t imagine you ending up like that.”

 

“I’m fine, he wouldn’t lay a finger on me,” Ray frowned.

 

“You think she thought he would either?  He’s _scary_ , Ray.  Just take the damn thing,” Gavin said.  “We both know a bullet isn’t going to do you any good, but this will.”

 

“You’re the one scaring me now,” Ray said, making sure the taser (or, rather, not a taser, but Ray was going to continue referring to it as a taser) was very much off before shoving it in his pocket.  “I had one bad dream and it freaked me out.  I’ve had weirder dreams, believe me.  It was just a dream.”

 

“I don’t like you being so far away from me,” Gavin confessed.  “You could be dead and I wouldn’t know.”

 

“I don’t die that easily, Gav,” Ray told him.  “I did get shot, but I’m fine.  See?”  He held up his forearm where 36 hours previously there had been a bullet hole, but now there was barely a scar.

 

“He _shot_ you?” Gavin asked, concerned.

 

“No!  The other gang shot me, Jesus,” Ray said.  “You really think I’ve got fucking Stockholm Syndrome or something?  If someone shot me, on purpose, with the intention of hurting or killing me, do you really think I’d stick around?”

 

“Well, _no_ , but…” Gavin trailed off as Ray rolled his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“Just because Meg did something doesn’t mean I’m going to repeat it,” Ray said.  “I mean, I might, but there’s nothing to worry about right now.”

 

“I really like Ryan whenever I’m around him, but when he’s gone, everything he does just seems… I don’t know… weird,” Gavin said.  “There’s a reason he’s the Mad King.  Just be careful, okay?”

 

“Pff, I’m always careful,” Ray said.  It was strange not to have that phrase immediately followed by him falling off a balcony or tripping into a hole in some scaffolding.  Gavin hugged Ray tightly just as the door opened and Jack and Ryan walked in.

 

“Aww, look at your boys getting along,” Ryan said to Jack.  Jack laughed.

 

“C’mon, Gav, let’s get home,” Jack called.  Gavin reluctantly let go of Ray and walked to the door.  Ray waved at him as he left.

 

“So.  Shopping?  Then maybe something else low contact, low energy, like mini golf?” Ryan asked Ray.

 

“Dude, I fucking love minigolf,” Ray smiled.

 

Throughout the day, Ray couldn’t help but keep remembering he had a very powerful, very illegal death machine in his pocket.  Whenever Ryan leaned in to kiss or even innocently touch him, Ray tensed up, and Ryan seemed to notice this drastic change in behavior.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ryan finally asked after lunch.  They were in the Zentorno, headed out to the minigolf place Ryan had found.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I know I’m acting weird,” Ray admitted.

 

“Is something bothering you?” Ryan pressed.

 

“I just had a bad dream last night, that’s all,” Ray said.  “I couldn’t sleep after, and I’m really tired on top of everything else.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryan asked.

 

“I mean, I don’t, really, but I guess I can,” Ray said.

 

“Was it a nightmare in which I featured prominently?” Ryan asked.  Ray nodded.  “I was afraid of that.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I’m surprised you haven’t had one sooner,” Ryan said.  “You’re tougher than I thought you’d be.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ray frowned.

 

“I’m a scary guy,” Ryan said.  “If you hadn’t noticed.”

 

“It’s not you that scares me,” Ray said.

 

“Then what does?” Ryan asked.

 

“You don’t scare me, Ryan doesn’t scare me,” Ray said.  “What scares me is someday, when, or _if_ I guess, you can’t differentiate between me and someone standing in your way.”

 

“Good use of differentiate,” Ryan commented.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Not sure what you mean by that, though,” Ryan continued. 

 

Ray reluctantly recounted his dream to Ryan, who listened silently.  “…And that’s why you found me on the couch with an unloaded gun this morning.”

 

“And that’s why Gavin came all the way here,” Ryan added finally.

 

“Well, no, actually,” Ray shook his head.  “He came because he thinks you’re shifty, doesn’t trust you at all to be alone with me, and to give me this.”  He pulled the not-a-taser out of his pocket and Ryan nearly drove off the road glancing at it.

 

“Jesus!” Ryan exclaimed.  “How did he even get that?”

 

“I didn’t ask,” Ray said, shoving the offensive pink thing back into his pocket.  “I get that he’s worried about me, but I trust you, and Meg trusts you, and Jack trusts you, so why can’t everyone else?”

 

“He’s not wrong to be suspicious of me,” Ryan admitted.  “Jack trusts me because I proved myself to her, you trust me because we’re sleeping together.  I don’t know why Meg trusts me, because she shouldn’t.”

 

“Good, that really makes me think I’m doing the right thing,” Ray laughed nervously.

 

“I don’t want to be that guy who just says ‘trust me’ before I do something insane,” Ryan said.  “Be smart about it, do your research.”

 

“How does one research you?” Ray joked.  “Seriously, I’d love to know.  I’d actually read that book.”  Ryan chuckled.  “No, really, where can I purchase this?  I have money.”  Ray pulled his phone out of his pocket with the intent of googling ‘what do you know about james ryan haywood’, and realizing it was more of a visual joke.  “Google results for ‘what do you know about james ryan haywood’ returns no helpful results, fyi.”  Ryan laughed again.  “Google results for ‘help I’m dating the vagabond what do I do’ also returns no helpful results.” 

 

“Jesus, Ray,” Ryan laughed.

 

“Although for some reason, I got an article called ‘24 Completely Logical Reasons Why You Should Date A Man With Tattoos’, so I guess that is somehow applicable to this situation,” Ray said.

 

“How is that applicable?” Ryan asked.  “I don’t have any tattoos!”

 

“I don’t know, google says you do,” Ray said, scrolling through the article.  “Google is the smartest guy on earth.  I’m inclined to believe it.”

 

“Google’s not a guy, first of all, and secondly, you know I don’t have any tattoos, you’ve seen me naked!” Ryan exclaimed.  Ray gasped.

 

“How dare you?” Ray replied with mock outrage.  “I have _never_ , in my _life_ , EVER seen another man naked.”

 

“Oh.  Who was I naked with then?” Ryan asked.  “He looked like you.”

 

“Must have been my evil twin,” Ray said.

 

“Evil twin?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yar,” Ray replied without hesitation.

 

“That’s Ray backwards.”

 

“They keep telling me you’re the smart one, Ry, and I can see why,” Ray nodded.  “Nothing gets by you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to yar.
> 
> next time: the gents say something along the lines of 'you cant just pretend to be two different people for years on end without consequences ryan' and ryan says 'fuck you yes i can'. also the lads have an Outing and blood is spilled.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember last chapter, and how it was all like anxiety and i'm terrified of what you could become and i can't believe gav and jack dont trust us alone together? None of that gets resolved in this chapter.
> 
> nevertheless, this chapter is exactly what i intended - i introduce two new characters, one of which i've been wanting to introduce since november (i started writing this in september, so a long time).
> 
> also friendly reminder: in case you forgot, because I think I might have, all three gents are exactly the same height.

When Ray and Ryan got back to the penthouse Monday afternoon, Ray was immediately abducted by the other Lads to go on a job.  Ray was still pulling his guns out of Ryan’s trunk as the other boys loaded into the Roosevelt.

 

“C’mon, X-Ray, we’re going to be late!” Gavin yelled.  Ray checked his SMG, shoving a full clip in and pocketing the old half-full one before sprinting over to the garage doors and practically diving into the Roosevelt.  “Finally.”

 

“Where are we going?” Ray asked as Michael started driving.  “Gavin didn’t tell me anything.”

 

“We’re more or less just going out to start shit,” Jeremy replied.  “No reason, just fun.”  Jeremy handed Ray an earpiece, which Ray turned on and put in his ear.  Matt Bragg’s voice crackled to life.

 

“We’re not starting shit for fun!” Matt insisted.

 

“Says you,” Jeremy retorted.  “You’re just mad because I got promoted and you still have to sit at that same desk and write code.”

 

“It’s true, but it hurts when you say it like that,” Matt said.  The lads all laughed.

 

“Matt, can I get a waypoint?” Michael asked.

 

“You are literally going like half a mile,” Matt said.

 

“I just want a waypoint,” Michael ground his teeth.

 

“Okay, okay!” Matt said, sending one to their GPS.

 

“You know Michael has no sense of direction,” Gavin told Matt.  Ray watched out the window as Michael pulled off the road and turned around, before starting out again.  Jeremy tried hard not to laugh.

 

“Shut it, okay?   I don’t want to hear about it.  This is why the Gents always drive,” Michael seethed.  He pulled into a parking garage that looked very familiar.  The parking garage at La Puerta where Ray and Ryan had gotten arrested.

 

“Hey, I know where we are, everyone!” Ray announced.  Everyone sort of chuckled since it wasn’t that funny.  At the top of the parking garage, everyone piled out.  It seemed like they were waiting for someone, as the other three just checked their guns and milled around. 

 

Suddenly, another car pulled up to the top of the garage, going way too fast.  The driver shouted, “Hello boys!” out the window before expertly threading the needle between Michael and Ray to run over Gavin, and then came to a skidding halt.

 

“Jesus, Trevor!” Michael screamed, running to Gavin.  “You killed him!”

 

“Whoopsie,” Trevor replied, hopping out of his car.  Ray and Jeremy couldn’t help but to laugh.

 

“This is the worst parking garage in the world!  First Ray gets arrested, then Trevor kills Gavin,” Jeremy said, still giggling.

 

“We’ll have to go without him,” Michael said.  “He’ll be pissed.”

 

“Oh well,” Ray shrugged.

 

“So, Team Pink Guns?” Jeremy asked Ray.

 

“Hell yeah,” Ray nodded.

 

“Probably better off that way,” Michael said.  “Though it would be funny to have Team Actually Experienced vs. Team Probably Never Getting Promoted.”

 

“Fuck you, I already got promoted,” Jeremy shot back, gleefully.

 

“Guys, we’re working,” Matt reminded them.

 

“Aw, c’mon, Matt, let me take one shot,” Jeremy said, aiming his SMG at Michael.

 

“Jeremy, please,” Matt sighed.

 

“Fine,” Jeremy grumbled, lowering his gun.

 

“Pussy,” Michael said.

 

“You wanna go?  I’ll go.  I’ll go right now.  They don’t call me Ramsey’s brawler for nothing,” Jeremy said, dropping his gun, tossing his mirrored shades and cowboy hat to Ray, and putting up his fists.  Ray caught both sunglasses and hat (sort of) and set them on the hood of the car.  Michael, with an impressed look on his face, dropped his guns, knives, and grenades, and then stripped off his jacket, ready to fight.  Ray took a seat on the hood of the Roosevelt, wishing he had popcorn.  Trevor looked like he didn’t know quite what he should be doing, and they could all hear Matt sighing heavily.

 

“I’ll show you what it means to be Ramsey’s brawler, Lil J,” Michael retorted, squaring up to Jeremy.

 

“Are you two really going to beat the shit out of each other?” Matt asked, resigned to the fact, but annoyed none the less.

 

“No, Matt, I’m gonna put Mogar in his place,” Jeremy replied.

 

“You’re gonna get fired, is what you’re gonna do,” Matt said.  “And I can’t even watch, I don’t have any cameras near you.”

 

“There’s a drone in the backseat of the Roosevelt,” Michael said.  Ray hopped off the hood, got the drone out of the backseat, threw it in the air, and it happily thrummed to life.  Ray situated himself back on the hood as he drove the drone in tight aerials (and narrowly avoided crashing it several times).

 

“Much better,” Matt said.  “I’ll record it so we can put it on YouTube later.”

 

“Good thinking, Gavin will be mad he missed this,” Michael said.  The two were still squaring up, both waiting for the other to throw the first punch.

 

“How long until he comes back?” Trevor said, looking disdainfully to the pool of blood on the ground where Gavin’s body had been before it had blinked out of existence.  (Gavin had a weird respawn mechanic.)

 

“About three hours,” Ray said.  “He’ll drop back in downtown and walk home.”

 

“That sucks,” Jeremy said.

 

“It beats the alternative sometimes,” Ray pointed out.  Spawning in a new body in a new place was sometimes much more convenient than spawning where you’d died, especially if that place was in police custody or inside an enemy gang’s territory.  “Geoff does that too, but he actually spawns inside the penthouse.  I don’t know how he managed to get that lucky.”

 

“Lindsay does that,” Michael said.  “But she spawns back over where our old place was.”

 

“ _That_ sucks,” Ray laughed.  Jeremy took that opportunity to go in for the first blow, but Michael blocked him and Jeremy retreated again.  They were getting restless, each trying to fake the other out.

 

“Just fight already!” Matt said, annoyed. 

 

Jeremy went for it a second time, and Michael caught his fist, turning him around easily.  Michael had a severe height advantage, though not the 10 inches Trevor would have had.  Jeremy was solid all the way through the 5’4 he did have, which worked to his advantage – Michael couldn’t really budge him, or at least he couldn’t for a moment.  He’d underestimated the amount of force he needed.

 

“Wanna put bets on this?” Ray casually asked Trevor.

 

“20 bucks on Jeremy?” Trevor threw out.  “What are you thinking, Matt?”

 

“Oh, Jeremy for sure,” Matt agreed.

 

“Alright, I’ll put my money on Mogar, why not?” Ray said, zipping the drone around them to get a better angle.  “Michael, you better win this thing.”  Not ten seconds later, Jeremy slammed Michael into the ground and Michael screamed as his head hit the asphalt.  Michael’s yelp of pain only turned into his own trademarked Rage™, and he let it fuel him like he was in the heat of a battle with the LSPD.  Ray smirked.  It would be a close fight, but Michael probably had an edge.  Michael jumped to his feet and took a lunge at Jeremy, knocking the wind out of him as he pushed him to the ground.

 

“Are they fighting to the death?” Matt asked.

 

“Who knows?” Ray replied.  “We can keep the video PG, just do an edit so it looks like blood sprayed the lens at the end, have it drip to cover the whole screen, and roll credits.”

 

“That’s not exactly what I was concerned about,” Matt said dryly.

 

“Oh.”  


Michael and Jeremy rolled around on the pavement, punching and kicking each other until Jeremy finally struggled back to his feet.  Michael slowly got back to his feet as well and it seemed like they were back at square one, just slightly more bruised than they had been.  Michael rushed Jeremy, picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder.  They were both dangerously close to the edge of the available space and Jeremy “I’m so scared of heights I can’t even ride on your shoulders and one time I threw up looking out the penthouse window” Dooley caught sight of the ground five stories below them.  That lapse in his focus was what Michael needed to gain the edge, or at least, so he thought.  Michael dropped Jeremy onto the ground, but before he could descend on him, Jeremy was back on his feet.

 

“He used to be a gymnast,” Trevor said in response to Michael’s confusedwhiteguy.gif face.

 

“Just pick him up and throw him,” Ray suggested.

 

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Jeremy asked.

 

“I can’t, he’s too heavy,” Michael complained.  Jeremy ran at Michael again, slamming him to the ground, but Michael rolled over backwards with the force, and after painfully cracking both of the heads against the pavement once again, Michael had Jeremy underneath him.

 

“Gavin’s favorite part of wrestling is when you end up on top of him like that,” Ray smirked and he drove the drone in what he clearly thought was a cinematic shot of the pair on the ground.

 

“I’m just resting,” Jeremy said.  “Thinking about taking a nap.”

 

“No time for naps, Lil J,” Michael said, as if this were a planned part of the training exercise.  Jeremy pushed Michael off of himself in one motion and slammed him back to the ground in another, practically sitting on Michael’s back as Michael lay on the ground.

 

“You guys are getting blood all over that parking garage and I’m not cleaning it up,” Matt said.

 

“As long as I don’t get any STDs from the blood that was already there, I don’t care,” Michael replied, trying to get Jeremy off of him.  He managed to grab one of Jeremy’s arms from underneath and somehow flung Jeremy off of him and across the available space.  Jeremy practically flew into the side of Trevor’s car, leaving a Rimmy Tim shaped dent in the driver’s side paneling. 

 

Jeremy’s clothing was tattered generally all over, he was bleeding from a few scrapes and including his lip and most notably one of his knees, which had drenched his entire pant leg in blood.  Michael was scratched up too, but looked like he would have more bruises than actual blood.

 

“Do we call it?” Trevor asked, nervously.

 

“No, they’re fighting to the death, TreyCo,” Ray said.

 

“It’s impossible!” Jeremy said.  “He heals too fast.  I could shoot him and he could still kick my ass.”

 

“You’ll wear him down eventually,” Ray advised. 

 

“You guys have company,” Matt announced just as they began to hear an engine revving on the ramp up to them.

 

“Jesus,” Michael said, jumping back as his own chrome Adder came flying around the corner.  The car pulled a hard left and skidded to a stop just inches from hitting both Jeremy and Trevor, but they both got gassed with the Achievement Hunter green smoke coming from the back.  Lindsay popped out of the driver’s seat and grinned at them.  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

“You know what?  It’s not fair you’re always doing the fun stuff in the name of Team Lads,” Lindsay said.  “Sometimes girls want to have fun too.”

 

“Not as well known, but ‘sometimes girls want to have fun too’ was the original lyric Cyndi Lauper wanted to go with,” Jeremy said.

 

“I was going to make the same fucking stupid joke,” Michael laughed.  “Jesus Christ.”

 

“What are we up to?” Lindsay asked, surveying the scene.

 

“Fightin,” Ray said.  “C’mon, have a seat.  The balcony’s still open.”  He tapped the spot next to him on the hood of the Roosevelt.  Lindsay crossed the parking lot, scooping up Michael’s jacket as she did so and putting it on.

 

“Lindsay, I told you, that’s my jacket and you can’t have it,” Michael said.

 

“Win and maybe I’ll give it back,” Lindsay said with a smirk.

 

“I think Lil J just forfeited before you pulled up,” Michael replied.

 

“That’s what you think,” Jeremy said, rushing at Michael again.  Lindsay pulled a spare comm out of the pocket of Michael’s jacket and put it in her ear so she could hear Matt as well.

 

“They really are going to fight to the death, aren’t they?” Matt sighed.

 

“Looks like it,” Ray replied.  “Not like we had anything better to do.”

 

“We do have a list of jobs that need to be done, but I’ll forward it to the B-team,” Matt said.

 

“Probably better off that way,” Lindsay added.  “The B-team is getting significantly smaller with every promotion Geoff doesn’t realize he’s making.”

 

“There’s enough of us left,” Trevor said.  “We’ll get new recruits soon, too.”

 

Michael and Jeremy, not forgotten, were rolling around on the pavement, kicking the shit out of each other.

 

**

 

Meanwhile, back on the ranch…

 

Ryan would akin the elevator ride up to the penthouse from the garage to the walk to the gallows.  He’d always known this day would come, and he was fucked.  Jack and Geoff were both waiting for him in the conference room.  Ryan couldn’t tell if Geoff was sober or not, and truly didn’t know which would be worse.

 

“Before the yelling and screaming starts, I just want to clarify that you will not be fired or retired from any of your duties, either as a crew member or as a weapons developer,” Jack said to start things off.  “We’re very impressed with your work both within the crew and within the empire.”

 

“Is it even worth asking that we keep Ray out of this?” Ryan asked.  Jack shook her head no.  “Okay.”  Ryan took a seat across the table from the other two, prepared for the worst.

 

“What the fuck, Ryan, come on!” Geoff burst out.

 

“How much did Jack tell you?” Ryan asked.  Jack sighed deeply.

 

“It is my fault, I guess, I let him get away with so much for so long,” Jack said.  “He was an employee of mine before he was The Vagabond™.  I learned it from you, Geoff, always seeing the good in people.”

 

“Wasn’t he the one who took out the last remaining members of your crew?” Geoff asked her.

 

“The last few busybodies who were kicking around doing dirty work in my name, giving me a bad rap?” Jack replied.  “Yes, he absolutely was.  I was the one who transferred Michael and Lindsay over to us just days previously, or did you forget that?”

 

“I guess I do conveniently forget whenever you have a say in something,” Geoff said.  “Almost like you’re the grand puppeteer and feed me suggestions subliminally while I’m drunk.”  [Jack looks into the camera and smirks.]  “But that can’t be happening.”

 

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me,” Ryan interrupted.  “Believe me, I can rattle you off the list, and it’s impressive.  But besides keeping who I am a secret, what have I done that disrespects anyone?”

 

“I guess nothing,” Geoff sighed.  “It’s the sheer number of times it was waved in front of my face, especially in the last month or so, and I didn’t put it together.  Even Griffon knew!”

 

“I don’t know how she found out, actually,” Jack said.  “I don’t remember telling her, and I don’t think Caiti knows.”

 

“Maybe Meg told her, I dunno,” Geoff shrugged.

 

“No way Meg told her,” Ryan threw in.

 

“Then maybe she put it together, but if she does actually know, it’s possible she told Caiti, and the girls hang out a lot, so Lindsay might know,” Jack said.

 

“ _Who is Caiti_?” Ryan asked, bewildered.

 

“They call her Deadeye,” Geoff said.  “We looked into her as a recruit, but she didn’t want to sign on right away.”

 

“I’ve never heard of her,” Ryan said.

 

“Word on the street is she could give Ray a run for his money as far as crazy accurate shots go,” Geoff said.  “And she’s also Jack’s girlfriend.”

 

“ _Ohh_ ,” Ryan grinned, looking at Jack.  “That’s who you’ve been running around with.  Good for you.”

 

“You know me, can’t resist a girl who can no-scope paintballs right into my heart from 60 feet,” Jack replied.

 

“And if I know anything about the Fake AH girls’ club, she’s also a freaking model, right?” Ryan asked.  Jack blushed and laughed a little bit.

 

“Do you really want to bring modeling into this?” Jack asked.  It was Ryan’s turn to turn slightly red, and he looked down at the table.

 

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  Unfortunately, this provoked Geoff, his eyes going wide.

 

“What, what, what?!” Geoff chattered excitedly to Jack, shaking her arm, slightly, ready for the hot gossip.

 

“My lips are sealed,” Jack replied.

 

“Please,” Geoff begged.

 

“If I tell you, will you lay off this whole deception –slash– duality of man thing we’re arguing about?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yes!” Geoff exclaimed.

 

“I might have been, for a short period of time, a male model,” Ryan admitted.  Geoff crowed with laughter.

 

Ryan recounted a tale or two from his modelling days to make the story credible, all while Jack backed him up and confirmed his tales, helping lay on details Ryan would conveniently lay out, as if she’d been around when the whole thing had gone down.

 

“But ultimately, I decided to go to college instead,” Ryan finished the story of how he’d turned down a medium modelling contract in Milan to continue his education.  “God knows why, seeing as college has gained me nothing so far.”

 

“You’re not doing too bad for yourself,” Geoff said. 

 

“Funny enough, I never took how to rob a bank 101 or any upperclassman seminars on making explosives,” Ryan replied.

 

“You were a theater major, so you were like halfway there anyway,” Jack said.

 

“Did you two have some kind of childhood friendship that I don’t know about?” Geoff finally asked the right questions.

 

“Uh… you know…” Ryan tried to shrug it off.

 

“We grew up in the same part of town,” Jack told Geoff.  “But he was the weird kid, so having him as my friend probably hurt me more than anything else.”

 

“Hey!” Ryan exclaimed.  Jack shrugged.

 

“More on _that_ later,” Geoff pushed that issue aside.  “As for Ray, it’s not my business as a crew leader what anyone in the crew does on their personal time.”

 

“With the amount of inbreeding in this crew, I’d say it would be almost hypocritical of you to say you did,” Ryan said.  Geoff threw a glare at him.

 

“However, as Ray’s guardian, I would strongly advise you to use great caution,” Geoff said.

 

“What is this, a D&D campaign?  Are you going to roll an intimidation check?” Ryan asked.  “Ray’s an adult, he listens to Jack, like the rest of us.”

 

“What would you do if I pulled out dice and rolled an intimidation check?” Geoff asked, almost laughing.  Jack sent him a look and he settled back down.  “You two blew up a warehouse this weekend after slaughtering the entire crew in it.”

 

“Yeah, it was awesome,” Ryan nodded, clearly pleased with himself.

 

“The two of you got arrested a few weeks ago,” Geoff continued.

 

“Now, look, that wasn’t strictly my fault,” Ryan argued.

 

“Oh, not your fault?” Jack chimed in.  “So you weren’t playing civilian target practice off the roof of La Puerta?”

 

“Wahh… maybe,” Ryan shrugged, doing a classic Ryan move.  “We got out of it.”

 

“Yeah, because I saved your ass,” Jack shot back.

 

“I said thank you!” Ryan replied.

 

“Kids,” Geoff called order back.  Both Ryan and Jack frowned at being called Geoff’s ‘kids’.  “Jack, shut up for a minute, I’ll get to you later.”  He turned back to Ryan.  “Please don’t get Ray into any trouble you can’t get him out of.  I really like that kid.”

 

 “That seems like a reasonable request,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Also you have surveillance duty every night for the next six months,” Geoff added

 

“Geoff,” Jack said, warningly.

 

“Okay, three months,” Geoff amended.

 

“Geoffrey.”

 

“Okay!  You can keep seeing Ray, I know it makes the little guy happy, anyway,” Geoff relented.  “But if you fuck him up, Jack will kick your ass.”

 

“I know she will,” Ryan said with a nod.  “She’s maybe the only one who could, too.”

 

“Grif could kill you with one look,” Geoff told him.  Ryan made a face like maybe that was true.  “Where is she, anyway?  I thought her and Lindsay were supposed to be in on this meeting.”

 

“I gave Lindsay the afternoon off.  She’s been itching for more field work anyway, so I sent her out with the Lads,” Jack said.  “And even though it’s the last thing you’re worried about, there is still the matter of Michael.”

 

“Does he have to?” Ryan asked nervously. 

 

“I guess not,” Geoff sighed, frustrated.

 

“He might kill me,” Ryan said.  “He already hates me.”

 

“I’d hate you too if someone put a 500 grand bounty on my head and you collected on it,” Jack shot at him.

 

“Jesus Christ, Ryan!” Geoff exclaimed.

 

“Calm down, it was 500 for both Mogar and Big Red, and the rest of the crew, and I didn’t even get all of it!” Ryan protested.  Geoff had his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands with a frustrated sigh, just trying to breathe.

 

“Jack,” Geoff said, without looking up, “do you really trust him?”

 

“Yeah,” was Jack’s reply.  Geoff sighed again.

 

“Okay.  He can stay.  When I look up, I want you both to be gone, and don’t think either one of you are off the hook for what happened in Vegas,” Geoff said.

 

“Doesn’t that stay in Vegas?” Ryan asked Jack as they both left the conference room in a hurry.  Jack shrugged.

 

“Are you going out to join the Lads?” Jack asked him.

 

“No, I’ll probably head home unless they really need me,” Ryan said.  They both heard Geoff scream _God Dammit!_ from the conference room, and Ryan grimaced.  “That’s really my cue to get out of here.”

 

Ryan shot a text to Ray on his way down the elevator, not really expecting a response, something along the lines of _surprise, they didn’t kill me… coming over tonight?_

 

**

 

Ray was having the most fun he’d ever had out with the Lads and didn’t even notice Ryan’s text until much later, when it would become effectively moot.  Michael and Jeremy were both exhausted from fighting.  Trevor and Lindsay had gone on a fast food run, and returned with more McDonalds than the group could really hope to eat, apparently running into a newly respawned Gavin on the way back.  (But not _over_ him, so Gavin got to rejoin the others, and they filled him in on what he’d missed.)

 

Gavin got his own ‘personal drone’ (“Ryan made it for me special, hands off”) out of the back of the Roosevelt and insisted on filming Michael and Jeremy punching each other for his apparent slow motion fetish, or whatever.  Jeremy finally conceded the fight from pure exhaustion.

 

“In a fight between two mortals, you would’ve had me, Lil J,” Michael told him.  His cuts were healed and his bruises were already fading.  Jeremy was still looking pretty worse for wear.  It was the difference between their own immortal rates of healing.  Michael was very powerful, maybe more powerful than anyone in the crew, though Ryan would definitely give him a run for his money. 

 

The atmosphere changed drastically from a fight to almost a party over the course of about an hour.  There was McDonalds en masse, and someone had hooked up the aux cord in the Adder, so there was loud music, probably either some pop or edm, because, like, those are similar.

 

A blue Entity XF flew up the ramp and joined the party, parking off to the other side, so they weren’t blocking the road like an asshole in case anyone else decided to show up.  Out of the driver’s seat popped Jack, and from the passenger side, another girl who none of them particular recognized besides Lindsay, who wasn’t really paying attention.  She was most notably young and very pretty.  Everyone automatically assumed this was Jack’s fabled girlfriend who was always mentioned, yet never seen.

 

“Caiti, this is everybody,” Jack introduced them.  “Everybody, if you fuck this up for me, I’ll kill you all.”

 

“I’m immortal,” Michael replied, tossing a sarcastic french fry in her direction.  Jack rolled her eyes.

 

“Uhh…” Ray said, eyeing Caiti nervously, and leaning over to talk to Gavin, as they were currently sharing the hood of the Roosevelt, “is it just me or is Jack’s girlfriend fucking _Deadeye_?”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin nodded.  “Yeah, you might be right.”

 

“Oh shit,” Ray said even more quietly than his originally question.

 

“At least she’s on our side?” Gavin replied at the same volume.  Ray’s entire body made a motion as if to say _not really what I meant_.  “Are you intimidated?”

 

“They say she’s better than I am,” Ray said.  “I’m _very_ intimidated.”  Caiti, apparently, immediately noticed Ray was intimidated and walked over to greet him and Gavin specifically.

 

“Hi,” she said, she sounded almost nervous, and it was easy to tell why she would be, really.  This was her first time meeting her girlfriend’s entire crew, who were all pretty terrifying and powerful on their own.  “You’re – you’re Ray and Gavin, right?”  Good _Lord_ , she was Australian too.

 

“That we are, luv, what can we do for ya?” Gavin replied.  Oh, right, and Gavin was British.  Maybe they could have a great culture shock conversation and Ray could just slip away – nope, Gavin was grabbing his sweatshirt.  Worth a try.

 

“Jack talks about you two almost as much as she talks about Geoff,” Caiti laughed.  “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

“Yeah, I – sure,” Ray nodded.

 

“There’s room on the balcony, do you want to join us?” Gavin offered.  Caiti nodded happily and climbed on the hood, into the only remaining unoccupied space.  She really was quite small.  Ray wondered if she could even lift a heavy sniper.  Then he figured, since she was Jack’s girlfriend, there was a strict possibility she could actually bend both of them in half.

 

“I hear they call you Deadeye,” Ray said to her.

 

“I hear they call you BrownMan,” she responded.

 

“Hey, man, I don’t wanna start shit,” Ray said, but Caiti giggled.  “Oh, okay, you’re friendly.”  Gavin laughed.

 

“She’s Jack’s girlfriend, and you thought she was gonna be hostile?  Oh, X-Ray,” Gavin continued laughing.

 

They could hear an engine revving and a hellishly pink Elegy popped up from around the corner and parked next to Jack’s Entity.  Geoff and Griffon joined the party.  Not even two minutes later, a black and green Zentorno followed suit, and Ryan showed up with Meg, meaning the only person who wasn’t at the crew party was Matt Bragg.

 

“Yeah, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t invited,” Matt said, and those who were still wearing their comms could hear him rolling his eyes.

 

“Lads!” Gavin called out.  “I’ve got the best idea.”  Jeremy, Michael, and Lindsay joined Ray, Gavin, and Caiti to listen to Gavin’s plan.  “Let’s steal a helicopter and sneak into Matt Bragg’s office.”

 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Michael said.  “Probably a cargobob could fit all of us.”  He tried to count everyone who was at their party.

 

“Jack’s here, she could fly it,” Jeremy pointed out.

 

“I can hear you guys,” Matt reminded them.

 

“Shut up, Matt, we’re heisting,” Jeremy shot at him.

 

“Oi, Jack!” Gavin called across the parking lot, and Jack looked over at them.  “If we get a cargobob, can you fly it?”

 

“Duh?” Jack replied.

 

“She’s in,” Gavin turned back to the Lads, Lindsay, and Caiti.  “We’ll need grappling hooks for style, obviously.  Shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

 

“There might be at least one in Ry’s Zentorno,” Ray said.

 

“We need at least four,” Gavin said.  “The Lads only travel in style.”

 

“Is that in style?” Ray asked.  Michael accepted it.

 

“I’m sorry, am I not invited?” Lindsay asked.  Gavin looked at her and realized he was not in a great place.

 

“Alright… how many grappling hooks do you think we need?” Gavin asked her, wincing for whatever was coming next.

 

“Four is probably good,” Lindsay said, reaching to her ear and turning her comm back on.  “Matt, we’re gonna need grappling hooks, stat.”

 

“And a waypoint to the nearest cargobob,” Michael added.  “I’ll go with Jack to get it, and we’ll bring it back here so everyone that wants to can come.”  He headed for his Adder, snagging Jack along the way.

 

“Are they going to realize at some point that there’s 12 of us here, and cargobobs only seat 10?” Caiti asked.

 

“Probably not,” Ray replied, as Gavin, Lindsay, and Jeremy continued to make plans for whatever it was they were going to do with these grappling hooks.  Trevor wandered over, getting bored with whatever the gents had been discussing.  “Trevor, it’s your first heist, how are you feeling?”

 

“It’s what now?” Trevor asked.  “Heist?  Oh boy.  What are we stealing?”

 

“Matt Bragg’s heart,” Jeremy joked.

 

“Oh.  What if I already have it?” Trevor replied.

 

“Well, I mean, figuratively,” Jeremy gestured nonspecifically.

 

“Oh, okay, gotcha,” Trevor agreed, huddling with the other three.  Ray and Caiti continued to not be involved in that.

 

“Thinks he can buy me with a can of red bull every morning, I’ve got news for you, TreyCo, I’ve got a promotion coming to me,” Matt snarked back at his two former contemporaries.  Ray snorted.  Caiti gave him a look.

 

“We have comms from earlier, we were doing stuff,” Ray said vaguely, gesturing to his ear.  Caiti nodded.

 

“Alright, boi, we’ve got the bob and the grappling hooks,” Michael reported.  Ray slid off the hood of the Roosevelt to saunter over to the other collective group, the Gents and Co, pulling his comm out of his ear as he went, so he didn’t disrupt the heist planning with his conversation.

 

“Hey,” Ray said, sliding into the conversation under Ryan’s arm.

 

“Hey,” Ryan smiled, leaning down to give Ray a kiss.  “What’s up?”

 

“We’re planning a heist or something,” Ray said, trying to make it sound as non-exciting as possible.

 

“Yeah?  A heist?” Griffon replied.

 

“Yeah.  Apparently, it’s super high stakes, but we can only take 10, so it’s Lads and Ladies only,” Ray said.

 

“Why only ten?” Ryan asked.

 

“Maximum occupancy of a cargobob,” Ray replied.

 

“What the hell are you guys doing with a cargobob that you actually need ten people?” Geoff asked.

 

“Breaking into Matt Bragg’s office,” Ray replied.

 

“And bringing him here to party?” Meg asked.  Ray shrugged.

 

“Probably.” 

 

“So… you can only bring nine people in the cargobob if you’re leaving room for Matt,” Ryan said.

 

“Oh shit,” Ray said.  “You right.  Well, this is awkward.”  Ray turned around and started to walk away.  Ryan caught up with him before he’d rejoined the others, though.

 

“We’re not dead,” Ryan told him.

 

“Why would we be dead?” Ray asked, pausing in his walking back over to the others.  Ryan took a few more steps and ended up in front of him, facing him.

 

“Cuz Geoff and the whole thing…” Ryan gestured vaguely.

 

“Oh.  I wasn’t under the impression he could kill us,” Ray said, but leaning forward to give Ryan a kiss anyway.  “Have you met Caiti?”

 

“No, but I’ve heard a lot about her,” Ryan said.  Ray pulled Ryan over to where Caiti was still sitting a little outside the action.  It seemed now that Gavin was sending Michael out to pick up super soakers and Matt was Not Happy about it.

 

Ray introduced Caiti and Ryan, and Ryan seemed to immediately pick up on how young she was, especially compared to Jack, and she nervously admitted she was actually only 19 and Ryan nearly had a damn heart attack.

 

“What?  What is so bad about that?” Ray asked Ryan.  “You’re 9 years older than me.  We're immortal!  Who gives a fuck?”

 

“I don’t like to think about it,” Ryan replied.  “Although, it does beg the question: has she not reached the peak of her abilities yet?  Because you have, so she might get better than you.”

 

“This is so rude, I cannot beLIEVE,” Ray said in mock outrage.  Jack landed the cargobob in the open space on the other half of the parking garage.

 

“All aboard, assholes, we got the super soakers!” Michael shouted at them.  Lindsay, Gavin, Jeremy, and Trevor ran over to hop in the back.

 

“You coming?” Ray asked Ryan and Caiti.  Caiti nodded, and the three of them ran to hop in as well before Jack took off again.

 

“Never mind that none of us are actually carrying any weapons,” Jeremy was saying as they all took seats in preparation for takeoff.

 

“We don’t need weapons,” Gavin said.

 

“Where we’re going, we don’t need weapons,” Michael said, starting to pass out super soakers.  “Why is _Ryan_ here?”  Ryan shrugged.  “Alright, whatever.”  He handed him a super soaker and moved on with his life, taking a seat in the entryway as Jack took off.

 

The “heist” went about as well as you’d expect.  Jack landed on top of the building that Matt’s office was in, and they used grappling hooks to (for whatever reason) rappel down the elevator shaft to the correct floor.  Gavin asked Matt over the comms to hack the elevator shaft door open, then they all ran to his office and ambushed him with the super soakers.  Matt had the foresight to move away from all of his expensive electronics.  Matt suggested maybe they could take the elevator back up to the roof, and Gavin complained for three straight minutes while Matt tried to fix the elevator that they wouldn’t get the glory of climbing back up on their grappling hook ropes.  Matt suggested Gavin could go ahead and try.  Gavin tried and critically failed at climbing back up, then shut up for once, while Matt finished fixing the elevator.

 

The whole thing took about forty five minutes, and they touched back down at the parking garage, where Geoff, Griffon, and Meg were still chatting, with a good chance they hadn’t really noticed the happenings.  Everyone settled back down a little bit onto hoods of cars.  Some mindless pop tune played from the speakers of Geoff’s Elegy.  Someone started passing around cigarettes, and some weed.  Michael and Gavin went on an alcohol run after Jack assured them that she could, in fact, fly them home if they got wasted.

 

It was a good night, strange for a Monday, and all very spur of the moment, but a good night.

 

No one was sure where Gavin got firewood, and were less than enthused when he used gasoline and a bullet to ignite it, but it created a decent campfire, nonetheless.  Camping, on the top of a parking garage, in a city as busy as Los Santos.  The world seemed so peaceful.  The whole crew wasn’t trying to fight each other, Gavin had some good videos for youtube, Ryan and Ray were off the hook (mostly), and no one was left out, assuming that Matt, Jeremy, and Trevor had some kind of three-way going on that no one knew about, or were at least good enough friends to pretend that none of them were left out.

 

Ray (he’s the main character!) sat on Ryan’s lap, propped up against the side of the Roosevelt, watching the fire dance, ignoring the incredible scent of burning gasoline that, as Jeremy pointed out, wasn’t actually going to kill any of them.  He’d never felt more like he belonged.

 

“Hey,” Ray whispered in Ryan’s ear.  “Guess what.”

 

“What’s up?” Ryan replied.

 

“I love you,” Ray said.  Ryan smiled and hugged Ray closer to him.

 

“I love you too, Ray.”

 

“You don’t think Caiti’s better than me, do you?” Ray asked.

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Are you just saying that?”

 

“Ray, please, you’re ruining the moment,” Ryan complained.

 

“You think she’s better than me??”

 

“I haven’t seen her at work yet, please chill,” Ryan said.  Ray grudgingly chilled.

 

“I would never say Michael’s better than you,” Ray whined quietly, pouting.

 

“Good, because he isn’t.”

 

“Even if he was, I wouldn’t say it.”

 

“Okay, she’s not better than you.  Happy?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yes.  Very.”  Ray continued to pout for a few more seconds, then Ryan gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek.  “Ew!  You slobbered on me!”

 

“You deserved it!” Ryan replied, laughing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo! Welcome to the crew Caiti and Trevor!
> 
> TreyCo, Matt, and Lil J are kind of canonically all best friends and no one is really sure if any of them is /with/ any of them (for now), though people do speculate (usually incorrectly). The nature of the real relationship is pretty up in the air right now, if you have any thoughts towards one way or another, I'm open to suggestions~
> 
> I've been wanting to bring in Caiti for /ages/ ever since she shot Jack straight in the heart at Extra Life and Jack called her Deadeye. Thanks Jack!
> 
> Next time: hahhahahaha i just finished writing this, i have ZERO PLANS hahha  
> probably either The Gang Plans a Heist or The Gang has another Field Day or The Gang resolves Open Plot Lines  
> Maybe all three, who knows. it's not over yet folks. (i have this problem where i will literally keep writing in a universe forever if no one stops me)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in honor of my queue on tumblr spitting out a post where (three weeks ago) i talked extensively in the tags about excessively intricate fahc heists not being realistic and true to the real fahc: here's the Big Heist Chapter we've all been waiting for, complete with Excessively Intricate heist details.
> 
> and by 'excessively intricate' i mean i was sitting in a board meeting for two hours quietly muttering 'where the fuck is the [insert place here]' and scrolling through four different maps of los santos i have saved to my computer. if you dont have a map, dont worry about it, it's not that important
> 
> warning for exaggeration of grenade physics for comedy. I'm fully aware that one grenade could not launch three cars.  
> also it's worth noting that ryan's mask has a built in comm device and he put a voice modifier into it because he's Extra AF

“Heist!”

 

The words were enough to perk everyone up.  Ray was nervous, but he’d been successfully reinstated to active crew member, and it was time to unleash his heist idea.  He’d tried to involve as many of the crew as he’d thought would be interested in being involved – that being the seven of the main crew, plus Matt, who’d gotten his promotion just days ago, and also Lindsay.  Trevor had gotten a promotion as well, but not into main crew.  He was now the head of the B team, and he was thrilled.  He and Matt were cohabiting in the penthouse.  Trevor’s new position apparently warranted him dual habitation with Matt Bragg.  It meant free beer, fast internet, and hot water, so they certainly weren’t questioning it.

 

“So I’ve created this heist plan,” Ray continued bravely, or as bravely as he could.  “We are going to take down an armored truck.”

 

“We did that already,” Michael pointed out.

 

“We tried it once,” Ray agreed.  “But we didn’t try it this way.”  He stuck a stock picture of an armored truck up on the white board.  “The way we tried it, we attempted to pick up the truck.  And we all know what happened after that…  Police helicopters out the anus, and this asshole over here,” he gestured at Ryan, who was in his mask and jacket, “hit Geoff in the face with an assault rifle.”

 

“Which hurt!” Geoff exclaimed.

 

“You didn’t feel it for long,” Ryan growled quietly.  Geoff crossed his arms.

 

“This plan is different, and we have a ton more people at our disposal.  First of all, Teams.”  Ray surveyed the room in front of him.  “Not that complicated, we have Team G, Gavin and Geoff.  Team J, Jack and Jeremy.  Team Jones, obviously, and Team R, that’s me and Vagabond.  Team RV even.  We’ll have an RV.  We won’t have an RV.  No one will know.”  Ray cringed at his own babbling and hastily tacked on, “Anyway, we’re gonna need a lot of updog.”

 

“What’s updog?” Matt, of all people, asked.  To his credit, he was taking notes of everything they’d need for the heist so he could get it for them.  Everyone else, familiar with the joke, stared at him.  “Okay, I’m an idiot, no need to stare.”

 

“Alright,” Ray called everyone’s attention back.  “Team J, I hate to be predictable, but you’re going to be in a helicopter, probably a Buzzard.”  He shot a look briefly at Ryan to make sure he got the right name and Ryan gave him a slight nod.  Ray took the confidence and ran with it.  “Team J’s job is to shoot down police helicopters and keep the heat off the team in the truck.  Which will be Team Jones.  Team Jones will start in the helicopter, land here, on the Senora Freeway and intercept the truck on its way back from Sandy Shores.”  He began to draw on the map of Los Santos taped to the board behind him.  “Team Jones will then infiltrate the truck, hijack it, and start driving it back north, up to the exit for Route 68.  Head up to Sandy Shores where the train runs through this intersection, turn left and keep driving.”  He turned to Matt.  “Matt, we’ll need intel on the train schedule to make sure this is feasible.  I want to get the truck into the train, but if we can’t, then we’ll come up with plan B.”

 

“I’ll look up the schedule and coordinate it with the times that armored trucks are frequently sighted leaving Sandy Shores and see if we can come up with a time table,” Matt said.

 

“Good.  Moving on.  Team G is going to be on the train, ready to receive the truck.  If we can get the truck on the train somehow, that’s ideal,” Ray said.  “Michael, what do you think?”

 

“Can we plant a stunt ramp?” Michael asked the room at large.

 

“I can look into it,” Matt said.  “But you’ll only get one shot at it.  If you miss, you’re fucked.”

 

“Maybe not,” Ray said.  “Team G will be stationed on the train to help with the unloading of the truck.  Teams G and Jones will unload the truck as quickly as possible.  Team J will still be trying to keep the heat off the train as much as possible.  Hopefully, everything will unload according to plan and we can lose the cops when the train hits the tunnel.  If you’re on the train, do not engage with the police, let Team J draw the fire.  B-team will be on standby in case Team J needs back up.”

 

“We might need back up,” Jeremy said.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Gavin assured him.

 

“And what are you going to be doing?” Jack asked Ray.

 

“Team R will be on motorcycles, some swaggy bikes, playing defense for the truck as it makes its way up the freeway into Sandy Shores,” Ray said.  “Mini grenade launchers, micro-SMGs, and AP pistols, probably.  Taking out of the police on the ground.  We’ll stay behind the train to shoot off any cops and try to draw them back down to Los Santos, so by the time the train gets up to Paleto Bay, Teams G and Jones can hop into the Kuruma we stash at the train station and take the long way around through Chumash back into town.”

 

“And what does Team J do when we can’t shake the cops and we have 5 stars?” Jack asked.

 

“I’m glad you asked, Jack,” Ray smiled.  “In the swaggiest of cool guys don’t watch explosions ways, ditch the helicopter and one of us will blow it up.  Then Teams R and J will merge and zip into the subway tunnels to lose the wanted levels and regroup back here.  Matt will have pizza and bevs ready for our triumphant return.”

 

“Sure, we’ll see how well that plan goes,” Michael agreed.

 

“Oh, come on, it’s bound to go at least as well as any of our other heists!” Ray pointed out.  “Between the four of you, someone will survive and get the money off the train.”

 

“Or we’ll call Trevor to get it,” Matt pointed out.

 

“Or that,” Ray said.  “Any questions?”

 

“So, it’s a disposable Buzzard, a Kuruma, the train schedule, surveillance on armored trucks, two ‘swaggy’ bikes, pizza and bevs?” Matt asked.  “And a possible stunt ramp.”

 

“Don’t forget the updog,” Jeremy added. 

 

“Shut up,” Matt shot back at him.  “Is that everything?”

 

“I… think so,” Ray said, checking his notes.

 

“And when are you anticipating this happening?” Matt asked.

 

“As soon as we can pull it off without fucking it up,” Ray said.  “Cuz we’re not gonna fuck this up.”

 

“Pretty sure we’re gonna fuck this up,” Michael said.

 

“I think it sounds great,” Geoff said.

 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Jack cut in.  Ray nodded.  “Team Jones should probably ride up to the truck with Team R on the bikes.  Unnecessary landings in the middle of the freeway can make helos stall and sometimes crash into unexpected electrical equipment.”

 

“That’s a really good point,” Ray agreed.  “I don’t see why we can’t do it that way.”

 

**

 

It took Matt only two weeks to triangulate a time.  Armored trucks were supposed to be unpredictable for this exact reason, but, of course, this was Los Santos, so obviously they ran like clockwork.  Ray’s plan was going to fall into place perfectly.

 

“Are you ready for your big day?” Ryan asked.  It was the night before the heist and Ray and Ryan were relaxing together at Ryan’s place.  It had been about two months since Lindsay’s heist, between training Lil J, and R&R getting arrested and benched,  and the crew was certainly itchy to get back into it.

 

“My big day?  You’re kidding, right?” Ray scoffed.

 

“Sure.  You could get a promotion if it goes well,” Ryan replied.  “Besides being a teamwork experiment, these heists are really a measurement of how well we can each play to each other’s strengths.  Which, so far, apparently, we can’t.”

 

“A promotion?”

 

“It really concerns me how little you know about our crew,” Ryan said.  “Rank.  I’m sure you’re aware of the crew ranks.”

 

“Sure,” Ray said.  Geoff was In Charge™.  Michael was second in command.  Ryan and Jack were the same rank under Michael.  Gavin, Ray, and Lindsay were the same rank under them, and Jeremy and Matt were below them.  Griffon was retired, but she had ranked with Ryan and Jack.  Meg was technically a consultant, not crew, and as far as Ray knew, Caiti wasn’t anything yet.  Trevor, in charge of the B-team, was the same rank as Matt and Jeremy.  Maybe.  “A promotion would put me the same rank as you and Jack.  I can’t be a Gent.  I’m 21!”

 

“You probably wouldn’t get a full promotion, maybe just to the head of your rank.  Ahead of Gavin and Lindsay if it goes well, I’d say that’s a potential.  I know I’d vote for it,” Ryan said.  “When Lil J’s heist comes, if his goes off without a hitch, he might make his way into you and Gavin’s block.”

 

“Hi, that’s nice, how did Michael get second in command?” Ray changed the subject, not really absorbing the last sentence Ryan had said.  “I was here the whole time, and I can’t figure out how he outranks _Jack_?”

 

“I don’t think Jack was interested in the position,” Ryan said.  “I will tell you the reason he got second in command over me is because his heist went better than mine.”

 

“Well, that was on you, bud,” Ray said.  “Did Gavin get a demotion for his?”

  

“I wish,” Ryan rolled his eyes.

 

“Why wasn’t Jack interested?  She used to be a Boss.  She had a huge crew!” Ray said.

 

“I don’t speak for Jack.  You’d have to ask her,” Ryan said.  “Running a crew is a big responsibility.  A lot more responsibility than a 17 year old should have.”

 

“Are you ever gonna tell me the whole story with you and Jack?” Ray asked.

 

“Maybe.  If I find it necessary or important, which it isn’t, currently.”  Ray sighed, annoyed.  “It’s all very boring, I promise.”

 

“Ry,” Ray whined.

 

“Come on,” Ryan said, collecting their empty dinner plates off the table and taking them to the sink.  “What game do you want to play tonight?”  Ray trudged into the living room, plopping onto the couch, and turned on the xbox.  “Don’t be like that, c’mon, we could both die tomorrow.”

 

“Don’t,” Ray said softly.

 

“Are you still worried about that dream you had?” Ryan asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Ray deflected.  “And nothing you say can make me feel better, because shit like ‘I’ll always be Ryan’ isn’t even true, as far as we know.”

 

“It’s a valid point,” Ryan said.  “I’ll do it soon.  How about that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ray said again.  “I can’t decide whether I’d prefer to get it over with or just keep putting it off.”

 

“At least if we plan it, it won’t be a surprise if it happens on a job,” Ryan said.

 

“It’s true,” Ray agreed.  “And it’s up to you.  And… Jack, I think?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded.

 

“Meg still wants to do it, doesn’t she?” Ray asked.

 

“She thinks she does,” Ryan said.  “It won’t be pretty, she won’t be able to go through with it.”

 

“That’s between you guys,” Ray said, rolling his eyes, bored of this conversation, really.  He turned his attention to the game he’d started up.  Ryan sat down next to him and gave him a kiss, which Ray returned.  There was no real anger between them, just a subject that had been beaten to death already and wasn’t worth discussing unless there was any new and exciting information, which there wasn’t at this time.

 

The pair spent the rest of their night, cozy on the couch, playing friendly video games.  Ryan insisted they play for kisses, the losing player each round gave the winning player a kiss.  A win-win situation, really. 

 

**

 

The planned interception time was 2:30 – they were all in position by 2:00, in case the truck came early.  It didn’t.  Jeremy spotted it first, from the gunner position in the helicopter.

 

“It’s southbound on Senora,” Jeremy announced.  Jack adjusted course to stay on the truck.

 

“Team G, what’s the ETA on the train to Sandy Shores?” Ray asked.

 

“I can’t tell,” Geoff replied.  “Matt?”

 

“Uh…” Matt said, and they could hear him clacking on his keyboard frantically, pulling up the train schedule.  “Actually, you might be able to see the train from where you are.”  Ray looked to his left and saw the train headed towards him in the distance.

 

“It’ll be a hot second, but the train moves much faster than we do,” Ray said.

 

“The tracks also route around the National Park,” Matt reminded him.

 

“Right,” Ray said.  “Alright, let’s move up and flank the truck.  In two minutes exactly, you pull around and cut it off.”

 

“Affirmative,” Ryan replied, speeding up to catch up to the truck from where he was in traffic behind Ray.  Michael was on the back of Ryan’s bike.  Lindsay was riding with Ray.  The plan was for Ryan to cut off the truck and Michael to kick out the guys inside.  Ray would pull up behind the truck and effectively block it from escaping.  Lindsay would hop in once Michael had control of the vehicle and immediately start consolidating the cash as much as possible.  Ray and Ryan would shoot any survivors on the ground level, and any police choppers that Jeremy couldn’t gun down.

 

“Sync?” Ray asked.  He received back affirmative syncs from the rest of the crew and they launched the plan.

 

Ryan and Michael pulled up to cut off the truck and Michael jumped off the bike.  He busted through the door and chucked the driver out onto the pavement.  The other guy in the truck was taken off guard and Michael punched him in the face, knocking him out.

 

“Lindsay, go,” Michael said.  Ray had just skidded to a stop behind the truck when Lindsay leaped off and ran to the other side of the truck to jump in, throwing out the other guy as she did.  Michael pulled a tight circle and headed back north, towards Sandy Shores.  Ryan and Ray shot the driver and the passenger immediately.

 

“Team Jones is in the truck, we’re headed north,” Lindsay reported.  “There’s a lot of fucking cash in here, this is a decent jackpot if we can get it all out.”

 

“Roger that,” Jack said.  “We’ve got a chopper incoming.”  Taking an armored car was an automatic 3 star offense, that meant a maximum of four cars, one helicopter, and road blocks.

 

“Do I shoot it immediately?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Let it slide for a minute,” Michael advised.  “We’re going to hit four stars when we pass the road block before the exit.  I can dodge one chopper until then.  This thing is heavily armored.”

 

“That’s kinda the point,” Geoff pointed out.  “We’re heading out around the national park now.”

 

“Fuck, it’s gonna be too early,” Ray and Matt had the same thought at nearly the same time.

 

“It’s fine,” Michael said, not showing concern.  “Better early than late.  This thing cannot outrun a train.  Handles decent, though.  Can we buy one of these?”

 

“Maybe,” Geoff replied.  The police chopper was on Team Jones’s tail, and so were police cars.  There were also cops who were there for Ryan and Ray, who each had one star from killing the previous occupants of the armored truck.

 

“Team R, engage police fire,” Ray instructed.  He and Ryan were still racing through traffic on Senora Freeway, headed north, a few hundred feet behind the armored truck, trying to keep the police off Team Jones as much as possible.  Ryan’s shots were much more accurate, he was used to driving a motorcycle and shooting at the same time.  Ray tried, but after half a clip had only shattered a windshield and killed one passenger.

 

“Try the grenade launcher,” Ryan suggested.  Ray switched from his pistol to grenade launcher, firing behind them.  The road had pretty much cleared of civilian traffic, which was convenient.  Ray’s first grenade exploded and launched the lead car into the two behind it.

 

“Nice shot!” Jeremy said, watching from the gunner post in the Buzzard.

 

“Thanks, I’ve got three stars!” Ray replied.

 

“More choppers incoming,” Jack announced.

 

“Start taking them out.  We don’t have anywhere near the protection the Joneses do out here,” Ray instructed.

 

“The national park is pretty.  We should go hiking someday,” Gavin commented serenely.

 

“Glad you’re having a good time,” Matt snarked at him.  “You’ve got four choppers coming from the city to add to whatever you’ve got on you now.”  Jeremy started firing the Buzzard’s guns at the other choppers, one by one picking them out of the sky.

 

“Holy shit, so guess how many stars you get for shooting down a police helicopter?” Jeremy asked conversationally.

 

“Four stars,” everyone replied at once.

 

“Oh, okay, so you knew that,” Jeremy said.

 

“Yeah, we knew that,” Michael replied.  “I got guys in front of me?”

 

“I’ll take it, you stay back here,” Ray said, speeding up.  He could shoot much better forwards while driving than backwards.  The LSPD worked fast.  They’d set up a road block on the exit Michael needed to take.  Ray launched a grenade into the center and all three cop cars went flying in an explosion.

 

“Nice one!” Michael said, speeding through the block without interruption.  “Lindsay, hurry the fuck up back there, we’re almost there.”

 

“I’ve got it all bagged, don’t worry about it!” Lindsay announced. 

 

“Team R will stop at the intersection and keep the cops off your trail,” Ray told Michael.  “Team G, assist Team Jones as much as possible with the transfer.”

 

“Roger that,” Geoff replied.

 

“Approaching the intersection now,” Michael announced.

 

“We’re headed that way, just keep driving,” Geoff told him.  “The farther from the intersection you are, the further from the cops we’ll all be.”

 

“Roger that,” Michael said.  He pulled onto the sand and drove parallel to the tracks, still going at max speed.  They’d abandoned the idea of stunt ramping the truck into the train.  Too many variables.

 

Ray and Ryan flanked the tracks and fought off the cop cars that seemed to keep coming.

 

“I don’t know if you’ve realized when the train comes through here, it’s going to launch these cars directly into us,” Ryan said to Ray.

 

“Fuck,” Ray said, seeing the train in the distance.  “Bail!”  Ray and Ryan both sped off in opposite directions as the train barreled through the intersection, not a care in the world.  Two police vehicles went flying, another blew up.  A crashed chopper landed feet from Ray and he screamed, jerking his bike in the opposite direction.  “Watch where you’re putting those things down, Lil J!”

 

“Sorry!” Jeremy replied.  “Don’t really have control over it.  There’s a lot of them!”

 

“Lindsay, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Michael said.  “Get on the train, I got it.  Just get on the train.  Go!”  Lindsay hopped in one of the buckets as it passed.  Michael was heaving the bags out of the back of the truck and into the buckets of the train as fast as he could.  He got the last bag on the train, just as a rogue police car came right for him.  Michael, being Michael, popped out his minigun and started firing at the cop car, killing the driver and diving off the path just in time.  The train was passed, he’d missed it, but the money was on there, that was the important thing.  “Fuck.”

 

“What’s the situation?” Ray asked.

 

“Michael!” Gavin screamed.

 

“It’s fine, just get the money!” Michael yelled back to Gavin as the train sped away.  Michael sprinted back down the tracks to join the fire fight.  Ray met him halfway and Michael hopped on the back of his bike.

 

“I have Mogar, let’s head back down south!” Ray announced.

 

“I can interrupt the police chopper signals for long enough, Team J might be able to lose their wanted levels,” Matt said.  “You’ll have to keep flying away from the city for a minute or two.”

 

“Let’s do it,” Jack said, swinging the Buzzard around and heading northeast, away from the train.

 

“That’s cool, we’ve never tried that before,” Gavin said.

 

“Lindsay, how are you with your wanted level?” Matt asked.

 

“I should lose it once we get to the tunnels,” Lindsay said.

 

“Good.”

 

Ray, Ryan, and Michael pulled the LSPD cars still on their tails back down the freeways all the way into downtown Los Santos, Ryan providing his own covering fire, Michael firing off the back of Ray’s bike, swerving through traffic with as much swag and yolo as humanly possible.

 

“Do you need backup?” Jack asked.  She and Jeremy had lost their stars and were willing to rejoin the fight.

 

“Nah,” Michael said.  “We can take em.”  This was an ambitious claim as the three of them had been knocked off their bikes and were now in the center of a police traffic jam, each of them with five stars, no cover, and nothing to go on with besides their own weapons and improvisation.

 

“Alright.  Team J is retiring the buzzard to the roof of your building, Matt,” Jack said.

 

Michael and Ryan had their miniguns out, mowing down lines of cops on either side of the square.  The police had full riot gear and were throwing gas, but missing terribly, luckily for us.  If it came to it, Michael and Ryan were probably immune to it anyway, as powerful immortals as they were.  Ray was between the other two with his full size pink SMG, shooting at anything that moved, and trying to ignite as many of the cars lying scattered around as possible.

 

“Are they okay?” Lindsay asked.

 

“They’ve got some action,” Matt downplayed the situation.  “They’re in the middle of a fourway right now.”

 

“Wow, that is some action,” Jeremy said.

 

“What?” Geoff asked.

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Jeremy continued.

 

“…a fourway _intersection_ , you _idiot_ ,” Matt shot at Jeremy. 

 

“Oh… Oh.  Okay,” Jeremy said, sounding thoroughly embarrassed.

 

“God, don’t you hate it when you kill a cop and then use that cop’s body to blow up other cops?” Michael sighed.  Ray made a noise of agreement.  Ryan threw another grenade at the small army in front of him.

 

“How’s it going, guys?” Matt asked.

 

“Do you remember that time I got a cab and he drove me off a cliff into the water and just swam away?” Michael asked Matt.  “Fucking cakewalk compared to this.”

 

“I can try to interrupt the LSPD signals again, it might give you enough time to get out of there,” Matt said.

 

“Do it,” Michael said.  “I’ll give you an extra thousand dollars if you can make our wanted levels disappear while you’re at it.”

 

“Can do, boss,” Matt said.

 

The crowd finally seemed to be thinning.  Every guy had been downed.  Finally.  _Finally._   Both miniguns were almost out of bullets, and Ray had gone through more clips than he’d been carrying (fortunately both Ryan and Michael had had SMG ammo on them.)

 

Michael took the moment of fresh air to laugh.  He laughed at the piles of cop car and corpse alike stacked in various states of exploded around the street.  He laughed and laughed, so happy to be finally rid of the cops.  Their wanted levels blinked and disappeared.  Ray breathed easy.

 

“I win!” Ray exclaimed to the sky.  “I fucking win, motherfucker, and no one fucking died on my heist!  Goddamn success!”

 

Unseen by Ray, one last cop popped up from behind cover and fired his assault rifle at Ray.  Four bullets ripped through Ray – thigh, gut, shoulder, head.  Ray’s last laugh was immortalized on his face as he dropped to the pavement, blood pooling out of his body in every direction.  Ryan spun in a millisecond and put the last 72 bullets in his minigun into that cop.  Michael was frozen, staring at Ray’s body on the pavement. 

 

Once he was out of bullets, Ryan dropped his gun and sprinted the short distance to Ray, pulling off his mask as he did so.  He dropped to his knees next to Ray and grabbed at his body despite the blood and guts.

 

“Ray, c’mon,” Ryan pleaded quietly with him, his comm gone when he ripped off his mask, and Ray’s had shattered either when he’d hit been shot or hit the pavement.  “Stay with me, c’mon.”  Ray’s eyes fluttered open.

 

“Rye?” Ray asked groggily.  “Ryan – I–”

 

“No, no, no, shh, you’re gonna be okay, just stay with me, please,” Ryan continued.

 

“I – I’m _dying_ , squirtle,” Ray got out.  Michael watched this interaction from about eight feet away, just staring.

 

“No, you’re fine,” Ryan told him, as if telling him he was fine would somehow heal him faster.  “You’re going to be fine, Ray, please.”  Ryan pushed his lips to Ray’s face, despite the blood and guts, as if he could heal him with the kiss.  Ray went limp in his hands.  “Fuck.”  Ryan bit his lip, setting Ray back down, and looked up at the sky, as if this was someone up there’s fault.

 

“Ryan?” Michael was slowing processing everything that had happened.

 

“Michael, please, not now,” Ryan pleaded.

 

“You son of a bitch!” Michael yelled, angry.  Ryan rose to his feet just in time for Michael to punch him square in the face.

 

“I deserve that!” Ryan said.  “I know!  I’m the worst!  Can we not do this now?”  Michael punched him again, in the center of his chest, knocking the wind out of him.  “Michael, please.”  Michael went for another punch and Ryan caught it.  “Please!”  Michael was so angry he could barely form intelligible words.

 

“Guys,” Matt warned.  Ryan couldn’t hear him.  Ray was useless on the ground, probably dead.  Michael was filled with too much rage to react, but then Ryan heard it.  Sirens in the distance.

 

“Fuck,” Ryan breathed.  “We gotta go.”

 

“Fine,” Michael said, breathing deeply, trying to let the Rage™ go.

 

“Keep that, you’ll need it,” Matt advised.  “There’s a lot of them.  I did what I could.”

 

“I lead em off,” Michael said, picking up the one remaining swaggy bike that hadn’t been blown up in the firefight.  “You take Ray and get him somewhere safe.”

 

“What’s going on?” Geoff insisted.  He got no reply.

 

Ryan picked up Ray’s still bleeding form and put him in the passenger seat of one of the still functioning cop cars surrounding them.

 

“Good luck,” Ryan told Michael.  Michael merely nodded before speeding off in the direction of the sirens to pull them off the R&R Connection.  Ryan’s first inclination was to head to the penthouse, but the sirens were coming from that direction.  That was a major flaw in their plan to run a criminal empire from a building within two blocks from _everything_.

 

Ryan tried to stop his hands from shaking as he drove without knowing where to go.  He tried to remind himself that Ray wasn’t dead, not permanently.  He didn’t need urgent medical attention.  Ray wasn’t a normal human, he was an immortal with a reduced respawn speed.  He would either heal his injuries while retaining bare bones levels of consciousness or eventually his vital systems would give out and he would be essentially dead while his body fixed itself.  It was hard to tell, but Ryan thought Ray was hanging on, though it seemed almost every function had shut off short of breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for obvious reasons, i didn't want to post this chapter until i had finished the next one, which i have, and will post in a few days. I have a sticky note on my desk that says 'post ch19 asshole!'
> 
> so, uh... yeah. Also apparently the consensus is for treyco/matt/jeremy ot3 so that might get mentioned later idk if it will actually see the light of day (considering how much anyone else's relationships really get mentioned besides raywood) so we'll see
> 
> feel free to send me nasty messages if you want. i know you all really loved the last chapter and how cute it was. tbh it's been my fav chapter so far too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My notes for this chapter say 'remember to laugh about cliffhanger' and 'the first joke is 3700 words in. buckle your seatbelts'

Ray’s respawn timer was slow, he was fully aware of how painfully long it took him to respawn.  While others respawned immediately, and still others weren’t aware while their bodies were out of commission for a few hours, Ray just had to be one of _those_ complicated immortals.  As slow as he knew his respawn was, he also knew that if he just held onto his body and his consciousness for long enough, his healing mechanism would kick in and repair him the way he was.  He just had to hold on.  He tried opening his eyes, but even the tiniest effort of movement seemed to be too much.  Bright white flashed in for the briefest of moments before his lids sagged again.  It seemed like an eternity.  He could fully hear the screams and shouts of his panicked crew members, though their words were not getting processed properly in his brain, so he had no idea what they were saying.  It was all he could do to keep breathing.  He felt hands on his body, grabbing him, moving him, trying to rustle him awake.  No dice.  Ray was alive, but only just.  It would be at least another hour before he could open his eyes or speak, and damn near twelve before he was back on his feet.  Maybe longer, he wasn’t really sure the extent of his injuries.  He’d never tried to heal from anything this bad before.  As unappealing as that sounded, being out of commission for several days seemed even less appealing.  It was possible with medical attention, he’d heal faster, though he’d never entertained the thought.  He wondered briefly in the small part of his conscious brain that was still active if Dr. Burns was still in the area, and if anyone would think to call him.  Probably not.  Maybe Ray could convince someone to call him once he could speak again.

 

Long before Ray gained the ability to speak, his ability to process sounds popped back online.  He could hear a faint car radio, the sound of traffic, his own ragged breathing, and Ryan.  Ryan was with him, that made Ray feel better.  Wherever he was, he was with Ryan and they were in a car.  Everything would be fine.  Probably. 

 

“No, he’s alive,” Ryan was saying.  Ray could tell he was talking to Geoff, based on inflection of the responses, but not enough to tell what Geoff was saying.  “I’ve been driving around.  I don’t know where to go, I can’t go back downtown, I don’t want to go all the way back to the bunker.”  Ray didn’t really know what was happening or why Ryan sounded so panicked.  “The- where?  In Vinewood?  That’s not very far from downtown, Geoff, I don’t know…”  Ray couldn’t really wonder what was going on downtown or why they couldn’t go there, or why they weren’t currently in Ryan’s apartment.  “Okay, if Michael’s sure, then I’ll head there.  Thanks, Geoff.  Talk to you later.” 

 

The conversation cut short and before long, or maybe it was a long time, Ray wasn’t sure he was accurately gauging passage of time, the car pulled to a stop inside a garage.

 

“Ray?  Are you still alive?” Ryan asked, concerned, opening the passenger door to get him out of the car.  Ray couldn’t reply, not yet.  “Well, you’re still breathing, that’s a start.  Uh… hang tight for a minute, I’m gonna put some plastic down… I don’t think Geoff would appreciate us getting blood all over the interior.” 

 

Ray heard Ryan walking away and tried to open his eyes, even for a brief moment, to see where he was, get any kind of bearing whatsoever.  He managed to open his eyes for a moment, the light nearly blinding him, but he blinked a few times, and managed to glimpse the inside of a cop car, and through the windshield, the mostly blurry inside of a dingy looking building he’d definitely never seen before.

 

**

 

Ryan’s phone rang again and he answered it without looking at it.  “What?”  He put the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could continue rifling through the crates for trash bags or anything plastic he could keep blood off the furniture with.

 

“How is he?”  It was Michael.

 

“About the same.  I don’t know.  Where are you?  Did you lose the cops?” Ryan asked, noting the distinct lack of sirens from Michael’s end of the call.

 

“Managed to dodge em,” Michael said.  “I’m bunked down for the night in an old hideout up in Vinewood Hills.”

 

“I shouldn’t have left you to draw them off by yourself,” Ryan said.

 

“I could have called for backup,” Michael replied.  “I had it under control.  I’m sorry for punching you, dude.”

 

“Yeah, well, I deserved it,” Ryan said.  “You can punch me again later.  Unless you have any advice with what to do with a slowly respawning immortal, I need to get off the phone.”

 

“Uhh… Slowly… respawning?” Michael asked, confused.  “It’s been two hours, shouldn’t he have popped back up by now?”

 

“Well, he hasn’t,” Ryan said.  “Not even close.  He’s still unconscious and still bleeding.  I’m kind of worried, actually.”

 

“I’ll have Gav call you,” Michael said, hanging up.  Ryan threw his hands in the air in frustration, dropping his phone from its place in his neck.  He bent over to pick it up and noticed a large roll of plastic behind a sheet of plywood.  Ryan pulled the plastic out and rolled it into the office.  It wouldn’t be comfy, certainly, but it’s not like there was a bed inside this – wherever the fuck he was – a motorcycle club?  Ryan took a cushion from the chair and set it down like a pillow, then rolled plastic over the entire table.  It wasn’t pretty, but it would do.  He ran back to Ray, it had been almost 15 minutes since he’d left him in the car.

 

“Ray, are you alive yet?” Ryan asked.  No response.  He was still breathing.  He was fine.  He was just slow.  Ryan knew that, Jack had told him.  Ray was going to be fine.  “Okay, well, I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re at one of the properties Geoff owns.  I’m gonna bring you into the office and lay you down.  You focus on healing, okay?”  No response.  Ryan picked up Ray’s body and carried him into the office.  Just as he laid him on the table, his phone rang again.  “Goddammit.  What?”

 

“Michael told me what happened – Jesus Christ, Ryan, what are you thinking?!” Gavin berated him.

 

“I am open to suggestions, Gavin, I do not know what to do, actually, thanks for pointing it out!” Ryan almost shouted.  “If you think you can do anything better, you’re welcome to get your ass over here and try.”

 

“I can’t, there’s cops everywhere looking for us,” Gavin said.  “We couldn’t even get back to the penthouse.  Geoff, Lindsay, and I are out in Chumash.  What is going on with X-Ray?”

 

“He got shot, I think four bullets,” Ryan said.  “He’s pretty messed up.  It’s been, like, two hours and he’s still bleeding.  This isn’t how it’s supposed to work!”

 

“Geoff!” Gavin yelled, and Ryan could barely make out Gavin and Geoff having a rushed conversation.  “Geoff is going to call Dr. Burns.  He’ll know what to do.”  Gavin hung up before Ryan could ask.

 

“How did I get myself into this?” Ryan asked, sinking into a chair.

 

Meg had taken three days to respawn the first time she’d died.  But that was typical of first respawns, to Ryan’s limited knowledge, and even then, she hadn’t been that badly injured.  And Ryan hadn’t really been freaking out for most of it.  Other than that, Ryan didn’t really have much experience with the whole mechanic.  His wounds healed quickly.  In fact, the few near misses he’d gotten during the heist were already healed up, nothing to show but tears in fabric.  Speaking of – goddammit, a hole in his leather jacket.  Son of a _bitch_.  A problem for later.

 

**

 

Ray felt Ryan bring him from the car and set him on a … table?  Nice class, asshole.  Oh well.  At least he had a pillow.  What would be faster?  If he could stop thinking and just clock out, would he heal faster?  Would it not help at all?  Would he even be able to?  Why couldn’t they just bring him to a doctor?  Besides the obvious reasons?

 

Ryan kept getting phone calls, Ray could hear that.  At least Ryan was with him.  That was a good thing.  Besides the fact that Ryan didn’t seem to know what to do.  To be fair, Ray wasn’t really sure there was anything he could do.  He heard Ryan get off the phone and walk out of the room, and come back some time later, he wasn’t really sure how much later, or what he was doing.

 

“I wish there was a way I could know if you can hear me,” Ryan said finally.  Yeah, Ray wished that too.  He tried to make a sound, anything, and surprised himself by making a medium pitched groan noise.  “Okay, well, that’s good, I guess?  I hope you’re… comfortable?  I suck.  I’m so sorry.  I should have noticed the one guy left.”

 

Ray wasn’t about to hold a grudge, these things happened, and it was crazy it didn’t happen to him more often, but then again, this was the first heist he’d been in the thick of the firefight.  And probably the last.  They’d never trust him down on the streets again after this.  He was so close.  So close to the perfect heist.

 

“Everyone’s really worried about you.  Gavin the most, which really scares me, since I assume he’s been through this with you before,” Ryan continued.  “I want to clean you up, maybe that would help?  But I’m afraid I’ll mess it up somehow.”

 

It was very clear how little experience Ryan had with this.  He was a goddamn pro at causing mayhem, the fucking Mad King of crime, but he’d never had to worry about this part of it.  Ray had done this a time or two.  It just took time.  Sure, a little wiping of the blood here and there wouldn’t be a terrible idea, but it wasn’t necessary at all.

 

“God, it just had to be you, didn’t it?” Ryan said.  “Michael or I would have been fine by now, but you’re not, you’re still…”  Ryan’s voice trailed off, maybe he was choking up?  It was hard to tell.

 

**

 

“It’s so stupid, right?” Ryan asked.  He blinked to stop tears from welling up, because he didn’t need this, not today.  “To think I could have stopped this?  Fuck.”  He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes to clear the tears, and his hand came back red.  Right, facepaint.  Which would now be smudged as fuck if it wasn’t already.

 

Something like a doorbell sounded and Ryan froze.  No one was supposed to know where he was.  Who could possibly be here?  He shot a look at the clock, it was late evening.  Fuck.

 

Ryan pulled his mask back on and picked up his mini-SMG before he went to the door.

 

“Who is it?” he asked.  Hopefully whoever it was would declare themselves.

 

“Uh… it’s Burnie, do I know you?” came the response.  Ryan frowned and opened the door enough to see the man, pointing his gun at him immediately.  Burnie dropped the bag he was holding and put his hands up.  “Dude, don’t shoot, Geoff called me.  I’m a doctor.”

 

“Oh,” Ryan replied, lowering his aim slightly.  “That sounds convenient, am I supposed to believe that?”

 

“What, do you think I’m a cop?  Dude, seriously,” Burnie rolled his eyes, picking up his bag.  “I’m a _doctor_ , see?  Dr. Burns.  Geoff and Ray know me.  Who the fuck are you?”

 

“I’m Ryan,” he replied, pulling off the mask and letting Burnie in.  “Do you think you can help him?”

 

“Maybe, but I’m not gonna do shit at fuckin gunpoint, get that thing away from me,” Burnie said, frowning at Ryan.  Ryan dropped his mask and gun to the ground as soon as he’d locked the door again.

 

“He’s in there,” Ryan said, leading the way to where Ray was still lying on the table.  “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“How long has he been out?” Burnie asked.

 

“Two-three hours?” Ryan guessed.

 

“Bullet wounds?”

 

“Four,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah,” Burnie nodded, pulling latex gloves out of his bag and starting to examine Ray as he would a patient.  “Three hours?  Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded.  “Is something wrong?  He’ll be okay, right?  He’s supposed to be immortal.  I would have – I would have protected him better if he wasn’t.”

 

“Hey, can you take a chill pill, dude?” Burnie asked Ryan.  “Just… sit down.  And try not to freak out on me.  I came here to deal with one patient, not two.”  Ryan sat back down in the chair he’d been in.

 

“He’s been breathing, and I think he can hear us,” Ryan said, hoping that was helpful.  Burnie nodded, still inspecting the four wounds.

 

**

 

Ray heard Dr. Burns and Ryan talking about him, wanted to contribute to conversation, wanted to just get up and walk away.  What he wouldn’t give to be fucking _not almost dead_.

 

“They’re all pretty bad.  Whoever shot him was pretty lucky, they avoided all of his body armor,” Dr. Burns said.  “Yes, he’s immortal, but if we can get these wounds closed or at least wrapped up, it will definitely help.”

 

Ray figured as much, it only made sense.  Ray was the only asshole in the penthouse who ever used the bandaids in the bathroom.  Everyone else wouldn’t even rinse off a small cut to be done with it, but not Ray.  Why did he have to be the one who was fucking _broken_?  He’d been immortal since he was a child, a toddler even, much longer than anyone else, he should be a pro at this shit.

 

“I should have, I wanted to.  There’s no first aid kit here…” Ryan babbled.

 

“Dude, what did I say about the yammering?” Burnie asked.  Ryan seemed to shut up finally.  “It looks bad, but he’ll get through this.”  Ray heard Burnie rip his shirt more than it already was to get to the brunt of his stomach wound.  That would have to be the worst of it.  Ray was glad he couldn’t feel pain anymore.  His pain sensors shut down very quickly after he’d passed out.  “God, those police slugs really make a mess, don’t they?  What the hell were you guys doing?  We heard the sirens all the way out at our place.”

 

“Uh… I don’t know you very well, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not share,” Ryan said hesitantly.

 

“That’s fair,” Burnie replied.  “Someone else will tell me.  Every time I think I miss the crew life, I see something like this and remember why I quit.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Kids laid out all over the pavement.  Some of them weren’t as lucky as Ray.”

 

“I don’t know if I’d call him lucky,” Ryan said.  Ray wasn’t sure he’d call himself lucky either.

 

“He’s alive,” Burnie replied shortly.  He didn’t speak again until he’d stitched Ray’s stomach wound shut, and wrapped his thigh and shoulder. 

 

**

 

“There’s a study that supposes if an immortal’s brain were injured in a very specific way, they might die permanently,” Burnie said conversationally as he examined Ray’s head wound.

 

“I haven’t seen that,” Ryan replied.

 

“It’s an interesting theory,” Burnie continued.  “They hadn’t gotten to testing it yet.  No willing subjects.”

 

“You’d think there would be,” Ryan said.

 

“That’s what I thought too, but mortality catches up with us at times,” Burnie said, shooting a look over at Ryan.  “If his head heals, it will certainly speed up the rest of his healing.”

 

“Do you have any idea how long until he’s back on his feet?” Ryan asked.

 

“I give it maybe another hour or two until he’s conscious, but more like two days until he’s fully healed,” Burnie said, pressing more gauze to Ray’s head.

 

“Do you know – would he have been better off if they’d finished him off?” Ryan asked.

 

“Most people, yes.  Ray?  Probably not.  There’s a reason he’s hanging onto life so hard, dude,” Burnie said.  “I’ll let him tell you about it.  You’ll have a lot of time to chat.  It doesn’t look like the LSPD are going to let up any time soon.  You guys must have _really_ pissed them off.”  Burnie had wrapped up Ray’s head wound and looked over at Ryan.  “At some point, he’s going to be in a lot of pain, so give him one of these every couple of hours.”  He tossed a bottle of pills at Ryan and Ryan caught it.  They were painkillers, strong ones at that.  “Anything else I can do here?”

 

“I don’t – I don’t think so,” Ryan said.  “Thanks for coming.  I’ll – I’ll see you out.”  Ryan got up from his chair and Burnie followed him out of the room.  By the front door, Ryan stopped before opening it.  “I don’t want him to hear this,” Ryan explained when Burnie looked confused.  “Is there any information you know of that I could read or just … anything at all, about hard resets?  I’ll be doing mine soon, and I know you’re an advocate for it, so maybe you’ve read something or have some advice?”

 

“I used to be an advocate, back in the day,” Burnie said.  “When this whole immortality thing was new to us, it seemed like the way to go, and it can be good in certain situations, but it’s hard to tell what those are, and it can be very dangerous.  If you’ve got your heart set on it, I can definitely get you some reading material.”

 

“That would be great, thanks,” Ryan said.  “I have to do it, get it over with.  Just worried about the potential side effects.  I won’t bore you with details.”  He unlocked the door and opened it so Burnie could leave.

 

“Hey, if you need anything, here’s my card,” Burnie said, offering his business card to Ryan.

 

“Thanks,” Ryan said.  Then Burnie was gone.  Ryan locked the door again and returned to Ray.  “Still hanging in there, bud?”  No response.  “I’ll assume that’s a yes.”  Ryan sat back down in his chair. 

 

**

 

“I guess we’ve got a lot of time ahead of us.  Do you want me to talk to you?” Ryan asked.

 

Ray tried to mumble something like ‘that’d be nice’ and it ended up just sounding like a few quiet groans.

 

“Okay,” Ryan agreed.  “I’ll tell you how Jack and I became friends since you’ve asked like 27 times.”

 

Ray managed to absorb about half the story – Ryan and Jack were from the same school district, and they’d not been _friends_ per se, but they knew of each other since elementary school.  Jack had been pretty constantly bullied throughout her life, and Ryan was too, though not as badly or for the same reasons, obviously.  They sort of eventually bonded over a mutual dislike of most of their classmates in middle school.

 

Jack talked constantly about her friend Geoff.  He was with the Roosters, an infamous gang around the city, and someday she was going to join them too.  Ryan highly doubted that – both that her best friend was part of the Roosters and that she was going to join them.  But she _did_.  She joined the Roosters, dropped out of school, and…

 

“She just… became the Best,” Ryan said.  “I don’t know how to describe it.  Suddenly the friend I’d made when I was 11 was a grown ass woman in charge of a huge crew.  I finished high school, got into modelling, that’s a whole thing…  Jack helped me through a tough spot when I was broke, and then when I started college, she offered me the job building weapons.  And it wasn’t that much different than building prop weapons for theater in high school – except they actually worked, and they were terrifying, but it was a job, and I understood the science of it well enough to do it.  I guess.  I got paid.”

 

Ray’s eyes were finally open and he was watching Ryan tell his story, but Ryan was yet to notice.  The most significant thing Ray noticed was that his glasses were AWOL and the world was pretty blurry, but he could make out the outline of Ryan at least.

 

“I got through college, I met Meg, I opened my computer shop, all because I was completely paranoid that somehow the police knew what I was up to and I needed to have the world’s most secure backup plan,” Ryan admitted.  “Which, they weren’t, of course, because they had enough to keep track of hunting down the Roosters and the 90 other smalltime gangs that were around back then, and Fake AH when it came around.” 

 

Ryan sighed heavily and continued his tale, of how he’d really entered the crime life, of how impressed Jack was with the skills Ryan hadn’t really known he’d possessed (like how to get information out of unwilling hostages), of how she’d recommended a few people around town who hired guys with those skills for one-off jobs, of how Jack had started hiring him herself.  How he’d first met Michael, long after Jack had stopped being a boss, how he’d tried to assassinate him, and how that had landed him his current job with Fake AH.

 

“I never expected to be here long,” Ryan admitted.  “I never expected to let anyone know who I really was.  And that’s all really because of you.”  Ryan finally looked over at Ray and seemed to notice Ray was awake again.  “Hi there.”

 

“Hi,” Ray said.

 

“Have you been awake long?” Ryan asked.

 

“Oh, a little while,” Ray said.  “I was just listening.”

 

“How’re you doing?” Ryan asked.  Ray tried to shrug and winced.  Pain was starting to come back online.  He’d hoped that would stay gone as long as possible, but then again, he did get shot in the shoulder, so shrugging was probably a dumb idea.

 

“I’ve been better,” Ray admitted.  “I don’t want to freak you out, but I think I’ve been shot.”

 

“Are you serious?” Ryan asked.  Ray cracked up.

 

“Do you have my glasses?” Ray asked.  Ryan stopped short.

 

“Uh… no.  Maybe they’re in the car.  I’ll look,” Ryan tore out of the room.  It wasn’t a big deal to Ray if they’d fallen off his face during his dramatic death scene, just that from the sound of things, they were going to be stuck here for a few days, and he’d like to be able to see.  “They’re not in the car,” Ryan reported, walking back into the office.  “I will get someone to get you a pair of glasses as soon as possible.”

 

“It’s fine,” Ray said.  “You’re just really blurry.  Also, not to sound ungrateful, but this table is not comfortable, and I’m gonna be in a massive amount of pain pretty soon.  Where the _fuck_ are we?”

 

“Boy, you really are going to make up for being out for a few hours, aren’t you?” Ryan said.

 

“Obviously.”

 

“I think Geoff bought a motorcycle club,” Ryan said.  “By the look of it, anyway.  There’s a bar and lounge upstairs.  Like a dart board and shit.  If you mean where in the world are we, this is Vinewood.”

 

“How far are we from your place?” Ray asked.

 

“Uh,” Ryan hesitated.  “Not terribly far, I guess?”

 

“Can we go there?” Ray asked.

 

“Uh…” Ryan said again.  “Can you walk?”

 

“Pffff,” Ray laughed.  “Yeah right.”

 

“Have you tried?” Ryan asked.  Ray sighed as deeply as his broken body would allow.  “This is a bad idea.”

 

“We live for bad ideas, Ryan,” Ray reminded him.  “We also die for bad ideas.  It’s the nature of the game. C’mon, I’m bored.  I’ve got an extra pair of glasses at your place and enough thumb movement and brain power to play Halo.  Let’s go.”

 

That was all the convincing Ryan needed.  Without much further ado, he picked up Ray (who squealed in surprise), and brought him back to the car.  Ryan buckled Ray’s seatbelt for him saying, “we have to go fast, they’re looking for us everywhere,” and Ray didn’t even complain, even though it was cutting into both his shoulder and stomach wounds.

 

“This is the idea that gets me fired, you know that, right?” Ryan sighed to Ray.  Ray grinned.  Ryan picked up his phone and dialed.  “Hey, Matt Bragg.  It’s Ryan.  What’s the police situation looking like in Vinewood?”  Matt could be heard clacking on keys and yammering.  “Okay, thanks.”  Ryan hung up, then started the car.

 

They made the drive to Ryan’s apartment without incident, luckily, or they probably both would have been fired.  Or dead.  Or arrested.  Or sent to another country.  Or followed around by a personal assassin who continually killed them each time they popped back up.  Probably Jack would do the job herself.

 

Ryan carried Ray upstairs into the apartment and found it luckily empty.  Ryan helped Ray get cleaned up a little without messing up his bandages, and got him into a clean set of clothing.  (A small arsenal of Ray’s clothing had somehow been cultivating itself at Ryan’s apartment, though Ryan’s clothing wasn’t too huge on him.)

 

“There.  Feeling better?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, much better,” Ray said.  “Thanks.  I’ll give you a blowie as soon as I can.”  Ryan chuckled.

 

“You’d do the same for me,” Ryan said.

 

“I can’t carry you, actually, so…” Ray trailed off.  “But, sure, the thought’s there.” 

 

Ryan handed him a controller and they played Halo comfortably for about an hour, Ray asking casual questions about the day’s events, or Ryan’s story about Jack, and then suddenly Ray was hit with the stabbing pain.  He’d known it was coming, but that hadn’t prepared him for it.  It was worse than anything he’d ever experienced, as this were by far the worst injuries he’d ever technically lived through.

 

“What?  What is it?” Ryan asked, panicking.  God, no wonder no one believed this _idiot_ was the Vagabond, Ray thought bitterly, trying to overcome the pain enough to ask for the medicine Burnie had left with Ryan.

 

“ _Drugs_ ,” Ray choked out and Ryan paused for a moment, confused, then quickly produced the bottle from his jacket.  Ray snatched the bottle, uncapped it with surprising agility and, without sparing even a glance at the pills inside, shook two into his mouth and swallowed.  Ryan, staring bug-eyed at this, got up from the couch and sprinted to the kitchen to bring Ray some water.  “Don’t bother.  Can’t drink anything.”

 

“You’ll… get dehydrated?” Ryan said, shoving the glass at Ray anyway.

 

“My guts are tore up, remember?” Ray said, trying to block out the pain as much as he could until the pills took effect.  Ryan stubbornly set the glass of water on the endtable by Ray’s side of the couch.  “As soon as these pills kick in I want to sleep the rest of this off.”

 

“Yeah, that’s probably a good plan,” Ryan said.  “I think you’ve been overexerting.  Didn’t you say if you conserve energy, you heal faster?  That’s how it works for most of us.”

 

“Yes, but that’s fucking boring,” Ray replied, trying to struggle to his feet.  Ryan moved to spot him, but Ray was standing, albeit unsteadily.  “I can do this, okay?”

 

“I’m just trying to help,” Ryan said quietly.

 

“I know,” Ray replied.  He managed to walk as far as the end of the couch, then let go of the couch to take a step across the room and crumpled to the floor.  “Help please.”  Ryan helped him back to his feet and spotted him into the bedroom.  Ray starfished on the bed (a lopsided starfish, as his right arm stayed at his side due to shoulder injury) and looked at Ryan.  “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

 

“Yeah?” Ryan asked, surprised.  Ray nodded, his eyes closing again, and very quickly he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that wasn't... so... bad... was it??
> 
> next time: life back to normal... or is it?  
> I'm thinking another nice happy chapter to unwind from the heist. maybe our fearless heroes scream singing beverly hills by weezer and making the entire heist's profits rain onto other crew members.... that's what my notes say...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got some sweet references to old videos and jokes in here - most notably, the team winners/losers episode of on the spot (45? maybe?) where everyone accuses gavin of playing with his nips, and the old 'trevor is into jizz, specifically his own' jokes. Some Classics. Well, new classics. I'll try to work in some even more classic humor at some point.

“No, he’s been out like a light since around midnight,” Ryan said quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping Ray.

 

“But he’s doing better?” Geoff asked.

 

“Yeah, he’ll probably be almost fine by the time he wakes up,” Ryan said.

 

“It’s not your fault, Ryan,” Geoff said.  “I’ve been where you are.  There was nothing you could have done.”

 

“I know,” Ryan sighed.  “It just had to be him, and not me or Michael, though, didn’t it?”

 

“I want you two at the Penthouse as soon as he’s functioning at full capacity,” Geoff said.

 

“Why?” Ryan asked.  “Did we screw something up?”

 

“Nah,” Geoff said.  “That was one hell of a heist.  Just want to congratulate the master planners.”

 

“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Geoff scoffed.  “We all know Ray puts about as much effort into the crew as he puts into cooking or exercising.  Which is zero.  He does what he’s told, and he does it well, but he’s no criminal mastermind.”

 

“Honest to God, the only thing I suggested was a second shot at an armored truck.  The how and the who was all him,” Ryan said.  “I know how crazy it sounds that he’s the one who knows the crew back to front and can play everyone to their strengths.  He’s the only one of us that was willing to give up the glory position and put himself in the danger slot.  He knew Michael was the best choice to drive the truck and would do what had to be done to get the money, even if he and Michael don’t get along most of the time.  He’s quiet, but sometimes he’s actually paying attention to the people around him.”

 

“Sometimes,” Geoff agreed.  “I never forced him into this, you know.”

  
“I know,” Ryan said.  “I think Ray and Gavin are probably the only people who woke up one morning and thought, ‘you know what I want to do when I grow up?  Join a _gang_ ’.”

 

“And Jack,” Geoff added.

 

“Well, yeah, and Jack,” Ryan amended.  “She’s out of her mind anyway.”

 

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Geoff chuckled.

 

“What’s she gonna do to me, kill me?” Ryan joked.  “I have to get around to a hard reset someday anyway.”

 

“You haven’t…” Geoff’s voice trailed off.

 

“No,” Ryan admitted.  He was scared of what Geoff would think.  Geoff had this idea of The Vagabond™ built up in his mind, and while most of it was true, Ryan was still Ryan underneath it all… somewhere.  “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about it…  I want to do it, and I want to do it as soon as possible.  Is there any way I can get some time off?  I don’t know how much time I’ll need.”

 

“Y-yeah,” Geoff stuttered.  “God, Ryan, take all the time you need.  Do you have a plan?  Does Ray know?”

 

“Yes, Ray knows everything,” Ryan said.  “Jack’s going to help me out with it.  I – I, uh, have to let you know, it could complicate things.”

 

“If anything I’d usually send you or Jack out for comes up, I can send Michael,” Geoff assured him.

 

“No, I mean…”  Ryan took a deep breath.  This hadn’t been how he wanted this conversation, but he’d opened the door now.  “The part of my personality that is the Vagabond was created with my immortality and might be permanently deleted with my reset.”  Ryan paused a moment to let Geoff absorb this.  “Your attack dog might be gone forever.”

 

“Might be?” Geoff asked.

 

“The way we see it, that’s one of three outcomes.  Another is that… _Ryan_ would be gone, and replaced with the Vagabond.  Permanently,” Ryan said.  “And the third is that nothing happens and everything stays the same.”

 

“Does Ray know?” Geoff asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And he’s okay with it?”

 

“He says he is.”

 

“Thanks for warning me,” Geoff said tersely.  “I’ll see you when you get here.”

 

“Okay,” Ryan trailed off quietly as his phone beeped, signifying Geoff had hung up.  Sure, he just needed time to process the information, and sure, he was just looking out for Ray, but it was Ryan’s life, and it was Ryan’s decision.

 

Ryan got up from the chair in the corner of the bedroom he’d been sitting in most of the night, passing time by reading a book, and stumbled out to the living room.  Ray was sure to be hungry when he woke up.  Ryan sure was.

 

By the time Ryan had breakfast ready, Ray had shuffled from the bedroom to the bathroom, and then into the kitchen.

 

“How are we feeling this morning?” Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow at Ray.

 

“Like shit, thanks for asking,” Ray replied.  “Do you have any orange juice?”  Ryan turned to his left to check the fridge, finding a jug and setting it down on the table with a glass.  Ray ignored the glass and started drinking it right out of the bottle like a heathen. 

 

“Okay,” Ryan said, turning back to the slowly cooling eggs and bacon to put it on plates.  “Hungry?”

 

“Starving,” Ray replied.  Ryan set a plate down in front of Ray and sat across from him.

 

“Anything I can do to help?” Ryan asked.  Ray shook his head.

 

“Thanks though,” Ray replied.  Ryan nodded and dug into his breakfast.  “It’s my shoulder, mostly.”

 

“There’s a lot of stuff in there,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, I guess.  It’s just annoying,” Ray sighed.

 

“Maybe the bullet shaved off part of your acromion process,” Ryan suggested.

 

“I don’t know what that is,” Ray said.

 

“That’s your shoulder bone,” Ryan began.  “It doesn’t matter.  You’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ray grumbled.

 

“Ray?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can I ask – what is a typical amount of time for your respawn from full-on dead?” Ryan asked.

 

“Six days,” Ray replied.  Ryan almost choked on his eggs.  “Yeah.”

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, it scared the fuck out of Geoff and Gavin too,” Ray said.  “Now you know why they put me on the roof.  It sucks ass.”

 

“I didn’t know that was possibility,” Ryan said.  Ray didn’t reply, just gave a vague facial expression and kept eating.  Ryan fell into silence too and they both ate their breakfasts.  Finally, Ray broke the silence.

 

“I _am_ a good sniper,” Ray finally said.  “I don’t mind the crow’s nest.  It’s part of playing to everyone’s strengths, right?  You and Michael are our tanks.”

 

“I thought we were DPS,” Ryan said.

 

“Maybe, but you’re also the tanks,” Ray said.  “Definitely Michael.  He takes a hell of a lot before he goes down.”

 

“He goes down almost every heist,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Because he’s drawing fire off everyone else, goes out by himself, and takes a hell of a beating,” Ray replied.

 

“Maybe you’re so good at playing everyone to their strengths because you play so many video games,” Ryan said.

 

“Probably,” Ray half shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter.”  Ray slid his plate into the sink and walked into the living room.  He found the pills Burnie had given him and downed another one with the bottle of orange juice he’d taken from the table.  “What are we doing today?”

 

“If you’re up for it, the gang’s all back at the penthouse,” Ryan said.

 

“I mean, we could do that, or we could stay here instead,” Ray pitched.  Ryan wasn’t a very hard sell.  They spent the next few hours playing some xbox live arcade game Ray had randomly selected from the dozens that he owned.

 

Still, they had to go back someday.  Both their phones were blowing up with calls and messages from the rest of the crew, which they’d both completely ignored to the point where Ryan’s phone crashed when he tried to unlock it from too many notifications.

 

“I guess we should go,” Ray sighed, deleting all of his own missed notifications.

 

“Are you feeling better?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s still just my shoulder,” Ray said.  “Can you help me rewrap it before we go?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan agreed.  He followed Ray into the bathroom.  Ray dejectedly sat on the (closed) toilet while Ryan unwrapped his shoulder wound.  “Yikes.”

 

“What?” Ray asked, looking at his shoulder too.  He wasn’t surprised, it looked about how it felt, though looking at it made him want to throw up so he shut his eyes and looked away.  “It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Ray lied.

 

“You’re hopped up on narcotics,” Ryan told him.  “Of course it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

 

“Yeah, that really only dulls the pain so much when half of your shoulder is gone,” Ray said, gritting his teeth as Ryan attempted to clean said shoulder.

 

“Are you sure you’re up to going home?” Ryan asked, shooting a look at Ray’s pained facial expressions.

 

“Yeah, this bitch will be healing for days, probably,” Ray said.  “It doesn’t hurt that bad if I don’t move it.  Or look at it.  Or think about it.  And I keep trying to move it cuz I’m a fucking idiot and I hate myself.”

 

“I think I have a sling around here somewhere,” Ryan said, pressing gauze to the wound still slowly seeping blood, and starting to wrap Ray’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah, that’s not pathetic,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “Or something the Lads will never let me live down.”

 

“Technically, you were only _mostly_ dead, so you do have the only perfect heist so far,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Do you know how much money we ended up with?” Ray asked.  Ryan shook his head.  “Damn.  I hope it was a lot.”

 

“Who cares about the money?” Ryan said.  “We all had fun.”

 

“Take that kindergarten bullshit over to Funhaus,” Ray snorted.

 

“We haven’t had a run in with them lately.  Are they still alive?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, we’re going through one of those periods where we decide to be friends,” Ray explained.  “Happens every few months.  Geoff and Jack will go to lunch with Adam and Bruce, and they get along, and then four months later, one of us will bomb the other’s base.”  


“Oh.  Hopefully that will be soon,” Ryan said.

 

“Mm.”

 

Ryan finished wrapping Ray up, then helped him put his shirt back on – a difficulty in itself.

 

“Alright, let’s go.”

 

Ray suspected Ryan had texted Geoff that they were on their way, because everyone was in the living room ready to toast their return when they walked in.  The whole crew, even Matt and Trevor, was there, ready with drinks already poured to toast.  Gavin handed a Diet Coke to Ryan and a Malta to Ray quickly, then scurried to hide in the back.  The door swung closed behind Ryan and Ray.

 

“Congratulations on the best laid plans this crew has come up with in years,” Geoff said, raising his whiskey glass.

 

“And to Jeremy and Matt’s first heist,” Michael added, holding his own cup of what could only be assumed was red bull and vodka.

 

“Cheers,” Jack said, and everyone started to clink glasses with everyone else.  Ray was overwhelmed.  He hadn’t expected a reception.  Everyone dispersed a little from the awkward crowd that had formed.  Geoff and Jack pulled Ryan and Ray with them further into the living room.

 

“You did great, kid,” Geoff told him.

 

“You mean I did better than anyone expected,” Ray corrected him.

 

“That too,” Geoff said.

 

“Honestly, heists have been going so bad for us, I think as long as we don’t get a teamkill, we count it as a success,” Jack said, throwing a look at Ryan.

 

“It’s not always my fault,” Ryan protested.  Michael showed up just then.

 

“Hey, Ray, great fucking job, dude.  Glad you’re back on your feet.  You had us worried.  Ryan, we need to talk,” Michael said in a rush, pulling on Ryan’s jacket to get him away from the others.

 

“I–” Ray began, but Ryan and Michael were gone.  “Oh… okay.”

 

“How are you feeling?” Geoff asked Ray.

 

“I’m… fine,” Ray said lamely.  “Right arm’s pretty much useless, but it’ll grow back, right?”

 

“That’s the idea, anyway,” Jack said.  “Anything too bad?  Anything I should look at?”

 

“Nah, Ryan wrapped it up for me,” Ray said, trying to avoid shrugging, and realizing he shrugged a _lot_.

 

“Well, try to enjoy your party,” Jack said, gesturing around.  Ray nodded and headed to the pizza on the kitchen counter.  Jeremy, Matt, and Trevor were in the kitchen and spotted Ray.

 

“Hey!” Jeremy said, holding up his hand for a high five.  Ray gave him one, then dug into the pizza. 

 

“Matt was telling us about everything we missed, all the cops downtown?  You’re badass!” Trevor said.

 

“Thanks,” Ray said through a mouthful of pizza.  “I try.”

 

“Not as badass as the Vagabond,” Jeremy said, little hearts in his eyes as his gaze slid over to where Ryan and Michael were still talking in a corner of the living room.  “Oh, man, seeing him in action with my own two eyes–”

 

“You’re new here, so I’ll give you a pass one time, but don’t make heart eyes at my boyfriend like that,” Ray frowned, still consuming pizza very rapidly.

 

“Oh!” Jeremy said, breaking his longing stare at Ryan and looking back to Ray.  “No, I didn’t mean it like that.  I’m not interested in Ryan.  I’m all good on that front.  I promise.”

 

“You just admire him from a work standpoint,” Trevor tried to help.  “Right, J?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jeremy said quickly.

 

“You want to be the Vagabond,” Matt said, and it sounded like teasing.  “You want to be the one who makes cops and criminals alike flee before you.”

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” Jeremy muttered, his face turning slightly red.

 

“I think you’d go exactly that far,” Trevor replied.

 

Ray mentally checked out of that conversation, grabbing another slice of pizza for the road and walking away from them.  He ran into Gavin next, who was with Lindsay and Meg on the couch.

 

“X-Ray!” Gavin exclaimed.  “Sit with us!  Shouldn’t you be resting?”

 

“I’m not a child,” Ray mumbled, but sat down cautiously next to Lindsay anyway.

 

“So I look down,” Lindsay continued, “and the fucking things aren’t on the floor, they’re not on the shelf, they’re nowhere.”

 

“Did they fall into your tits?” Meg asked.

 

“Fell into my tits,” Lindsay nodded. 

 

“I told you, it happens,” Meg said to Gavin.  “Gav’s always making fun of me, because that’s the first place I check.”

 

“I’ve never had anything fall into my shirt,” Gavin said, crossing his arms.

 

“You don’t have tits!” Lindsay and Meg exclaimed at once.

 

“Even if I did, that still wouldn’t be the first place I checked!” Gavin replied.

 

“It’s an acquired trait,” Jack interjected as she passed the couches.  “You’d start looking there eventually.  Everything gets stuck.  Popcorn is one of the worst offenders.”

 

“Absolutely,” Lindsay agreed.

 

“It takes some getting used to, but Gavvy, I _guarantee it_ , if you suddenly had tits, you’d be searching for shit in them left and right,” Jack said, mussing up Gavin’s hair in a friendly gesture as she moved on from their conversation.

 

“Of course I’d be playing with them all the bloody time, what do you think tits are for?” Gavin said, but Jack was gone.

 

“You already play with your nips when you’re bored,” Ray threw out helpfully.

 

“I… do not?” Gavin replied, confused.

 

“You do so,” Meg and Lindsay both said.

 

“So many times have I walked into a room to find you spaced out at a computer screen casually playing with a nip,” Meg said.

 

“That’s just an unconscious response,” Gavin argued.  “Everyone does that.”

 

“Nope,” Ray said.

 

“Your experiences are not universal,” Lindsay added.

 

“People do it!” Gavin continued to argue.  “I bet – I bet _Trevor_ – Trevor must do it!”

 

“But … Trevor’s weird…” Ray said, shooting a look over to the kitchen where the three newest members were still congregating.

 

“I heard he likes to eat his own jizz,” Lindsay said.

 

“I’m not gonna say that’s specifically why he’s weird, because that might be a thing that people apparently ‘do’, but he’s definitely weird,” Ray said.

 

“No, that’s not a thing that people do,” Gavin said quickly.  “No one eats their own _spunk_.”

 

“But you eat other peoples’,” Meg pointed out.  “Unless you don’t swallow.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Gavin shot back at her.

 

“Somehow that’s different than jerking it into your own mouth,” Ray said.  “Swallowing jizz is probably pretty low on the meter of weird things Trevor does, regardless…  Something’s not right about that kid…”

 

“Is it because he’ll share a room with Matt Bragg?” Lindsay asked.

 

“That might be it,” Ray said.  “Maybe if he was puking jizz.  That’d be weird.”

 

“You’ve never puked jizz?” Meg asked.

 

“Well, not _yet_ , but there’s still time!  I’m only 21,” Ray said.

 

“God, you’re young,” Gavin said.

 

“You are one year older than me, but thanks Gav,” Ray replied.

 

“Am not, I’m 23!”

 

“It hasn’t been my birthday yet this year, asshole,” Ray shot back.  “If anything, you should be asking yourself, if you’re so smart, how come you’re a year older than me and we were in the same grade?”

 

“Living on the street doesn’t exactly lend itself to getting an education,” Gavin retorted, very British, and slightly annoyed.

 

“Didn’t stop me,” Ray snorted.

 

“Hey, I love this song!” Lindsay interrupted them loudly, bolting out of her chair to turn up the music even louder.  “Dance with me!”  Meg dragged Gavin off the couch to dance with her and Lindsay.

 

“I can’t, but I’ll watch,” Ray assured Meg, who was gesturing for him to join them.  Ryan plopped down next to Ray and Michael sat down in the chair Meg had just vacated.  “Heyo.”

 

“How ya doin?” Ryan asked Ray.

 

“I’m fine,” Ray said.  “Could use more pizza.  It’s just so far away, I can’t reach.”  Ryan chuckled, getting up to get Ray some more pizza.  Ray looked to Michael, suspiciously.

 

“Great heist,” Michael said, but his smile didn’t look quite genuine. 

 

“Thanks.  How much did we get?” Ray asked.

 

“Oh, plenty,” Michael said.  “Actually–”  He looked across the room and Ray followed his gaze.  Somehow Jeremy, Matt, and Trevor had joined Lindsay, Meg, and Gavin to dance and what was probably tens of thousands of dollars was raining down on them, most of it in hundreds.  “Yeah, I guess that speaks for itself.”

 

“Where’s Grif?  Shouldn’t she be here?” Ray asked as Geoff sat down with them.

 

“You know how much Grif hates a good party,” Geoff laughed.  “No, she’s in our room with Caiti.  Turns out she doesn’t trust Trevor.”

 

“Do any of us really trust Trevor?” Ray asked.  Michael shook his head.

 

“I think he’s fine,” Ryan said, returning with Ray’s pizza and sitting back down next to him.  “Smart kid.”  Ray immediately dug into another slice.  Maybe if he fed his body enough carbs or whatever, it would kick his shoulder repair into high gear.  (Unlikely, but it couldn’t hurt to try, right?)

 

“Good, because you’re going to teach him how to do your job,” Geoff said.

 

“My job?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, weapons development.  He’s going to school to be an _actual rocket scientist_ ,” Geoff said.  “I’d have to be insane not to capitalize on that while he’s still here.”

 

“You really think he’ll leave when he’s done college?” Michael asked.

 

“That’s his plan,” Geoff said.  “Fine with me.  It’s his life.  He’ll figure out it’s boring out there sooner or later.”

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to go to space,” Jack interjected, sitting down on the arm of Geoff’s chair with another glass of whiskey for Geoff and a beer for herself.

 

“Of course I don’t want to go to space,” Geoff said.  “Why the fuck would I want to go to space?”

 

“Why _wouldn’t_ you want to go to space?” Jack asked.  “It would be so cool!”

 

“You buy a girl one plane, and then she wants you to buy all of NASA,” Geoff rolled his eyes.

 

“I bought myself that plane, asshole,” Jack said.  “And I’ll fund an entire team of people to go to space if I want to.”  They weren’t really angry, just teasing in good fun, like they always did.  Team OG had a beautiful love and respect for each other that no one else could even hope to achieve.  Ray, having finished all the pizza Ryan brought over, clocked out of their conversation and tipped his head to rest on Ryan’s shoulder.

 

“Tired again?” Ryan asked quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Ray replied almost inaudibly.  He cleared his throat and opened his eyes again.  “I mean, no, not really, but I really want my shoulder back.”

 

“It’s okay, get some rest,” Ryan told him.  “If you start snoring really loudly, I’ll carry you to your room before they draw dicks on your face.”

 

“No, it’s fine, I like dicks on my face,” Ray mumbled, his brain immediately clocking out before he could think on that statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, real talk for a minute here: remember when I started writing this and it was a fic about how the vagabond was Terrifying and Never Talked Ever and ray was Into That and there was a whole arc about how killing innocent people is Bad and now Ryan is like Best Boyfriend Ever for two months and counting and ray is somehow the best in the crew at Everything but doesn’t want recognition for his Hard Work … and also matt and trevor and caiti are all here now and jack and ryan have been friends for 20 years and I Lost Control Of The Plot About 12 Chapters Ago? 
> 
> Yeah, so anyway, how are things? We’re coming up on a year(?) of me writing this (writing, not posting). It was my first fic for this fandom… which is insane? Idk. opinions on the story so far? Has my writing improved since the beginning? Gotten worse? Stayed about the same? I feel like the first two(?) chapters I wrote were the best until like these last three or four? Anyway, would love to hear what you think. I’m trucking away looking for the plot to the next few chapters. We’ve still got a lot(?) ahead of us. there's still at least one minor and one major event before ryan's reset, and that'll be a whole thing, for sure.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in memoriam of the best doggo: Bella. I had this idea for a long time, and because I Suck at writing, I never got around to writing it. She passed away in June and I thought I would throw out the idea to be respectful. But I just miss her and her cute doggo face? Please don't think I'm being disrespectful with this, because that is the last thing I would want to be. This is the only chapter she'll be featured in (and nothing bad happens to her, of course).
> 
> Reminder: Ray is probably the most unreliable narrator in the history of literature and that’s the joke I’m running with. Have been for 20 chapters. Hasn’t proved me wrong yet.
> 
> Another note: why is Jeremy weird? Jeremy doesn’t act like that?? Jeremy is like ‘ive just been hired I don’t know if I can really cause shit because I don’t wanna be fired’ Jeremy. But he’ll get his heist and turn into between the games ‘how will jeremy be fuckin extra this week’ Jeremy soon. Very soon. Sooner than you think.

Yes, Ray’s first thought waking up was remembering he’d uttered the statement ‘no, it’s fine, I like dicks on my face’ in front of both his adoptive parents who were also his bosses, his boyfriend, and his enemy turned friend.  Ray’s first spoken sentence waking up was, “I regret my entire life up to this point and nothing you do or say can convince me otherwise.”  Ryan chuckled from beside him on the bed.  Ray opened his eyes and glared at Ryan.

 

“You’re cute,” Ryan smiled.  “Finally waking up?”

 

“No,” Ray muttered, making a face and closing his eyes again.  Anything to go back to sleep.

 

“Too bad, cuz I was thinking, if you were awake and maybe feeling up to it, we could go to the mall,” Ryan said.  “Gavin and Meg kind of invited us to go with them.”

 

“That’d be a miserable experience.  Count me out,” Ray said, trying his best to steadfastly feign sleep, despite continuing to carry on conversation.

 

“And I thought if we went to the mall, we could go to Game Stop and pick up that new game that came out.  The one you tried to pre-order but they were sold out,” Ryan continued.

 

“Right, but it’s sold out, and they said they weren’t going to get any more, and we’d have to wait for Amazon to restock to get it, because they don’t have digital downloads for some stupid reason,” Ray replied.

 

“But if you don’t want to go, then I guess we don’t need to go to Game Stop and pick it up, we can just wait for Amazon to restock.  It won’t be the longest two weeks of your entire life,” Ryan said.  Ray  opened his eyes and frowned at Ryan, squinting at him.

 

“It was sold out.  How’d you do it?” Ray asked. 

 

“I called in some favors,” Ryan said nonchalantly.  Ray almost jumped out of bed in sudden excitement.

 

“Let’s go!” Ray said, grabbing his glasses and hoodie.  “What are we waiting for?”  Ryan chuckled.

 

Ray spent the next several days at the bare minimum glued to his TV screen, playing his new game.  He was going for perfection, and the game was being a bitch, but in all the ways that made it a great game.

 

Three (3) days after the heist, there was a soft knock on Ray’s door.  “Ray…”  It was Ryan.

 

“Yeah?” Ray asked.

 

“When was the last time you ate?  Or showered?” Ryan asked.  Yesterday, when the 360 had frozen, Ray had taken a shower and gotten some snacks while Gavin tried to “fix” it, but it started working again on its own, and no one should ever let Gavin try to fix their electronics.

 

“Did Jack send you?” Ray asked.  Ryan pushed open the door and walked in, carrying his laptop bag over his shoulder.

 

“Maybe?” Ryan cringed as he said it.  Ray just rolled his eyes, too focused on the game to get into that conversation.  Ryan set down his bag and sat down next to Ray on the bed.  “The Lads are planning something fun and you’re missing it.”

 

“I’ll get over it,” Ray said.

 

“Someday you’ll be sad you missed these experiences you could have been having with your friends,” Ryan told him.

 

“Okay, you’re not my dad, so… I don’t know what that’s about, and also, I’m immortal, so no I won’t,” Ray said.

 

“Okay,” Ryan sighed.  He opened his laptop, getting back to work.

 

Two (2) more days passed.  It was getting ridiculous.  Ryan wasn’t sure when Ray had last slept.  Or eaten.  Or moved.

 

“I don’t need to, I’m immortal,” was Ray’s apparent mantra.  Ryan gave up.

 

Geoff got involved on Day 6.  He and Ryan forcibly moved Ray from his bedroom to the living room.  Ray only protested until they got the game working again, and Ray continued his playthrough in the living room.  This only caused an inconvenience for everyone else in the penthouse, since now the main TV was being hogged. 

 

The Lads ran through the living room doing this, that, and the other thing, almost too frequently for Ray’s taste.  He could tell they were Up To Something, but he really Couldn’t Care Less what it was.  At one point, he thought he vaguely smelled smoke.  The Lads came running through screaming.  Jack was right behind them brandishing a fire extinguisher.

 

“White people, am I right?” Ray said to nobody.

 

Another day passed, or maybe it didn’t.  Ray wasn’t keeping track.  Jeremy sat down beside him on the couch.  A dog hopped into his lap.

 

“The fuck – is that a _dog_?” Ray asked, taking his eyes of the screen for the first time in hours.

 

“N…no?” Jeremy said, looking between Ray and the dog.  “M…maybe?”

 

“Don’t fuck with me, am I hallucinating a dog right now?” Ray asked.

 

“N-no, it’s a real dog,” Jeremy said uncertainly.  “I didn’t think you’d notice.  No one else is home, and she wanted to explore the house.”

 

“You have a dog?” Ray asked, actually hitting the start button to pause the game.  “Are we allowed to have dogs now?  I want a dog.”

 

“No, she’s not my dog.  I’m dog-sitting for my friend,” Jeremy said.  “I’m… not… really supposed to.  But everyone is out!  I thought it would be okay.”

 

“Why are you not supposed to?” Ray asked.

 

“My friend is with the Roosters,” Jeremy admitted.  “And we’re not really supposed to… you know… fraternize.”

 

“What?”

 

“Did you not get that memo?” Jeremy asked.

 

“I haven’t gotten a memo this crew has put out in seven years, I’m not about to start now,” Ray said.  “Who’s your friend?”  _Please don’t say Joel Heyman, please, dear god, don’t say Joel Heyman._

 

“Jon,” Jeremy said.  Ray breathed a sigh of relief.  Jeremy was definitely too good to be mixed up with Joel’s shit, especially these days.  And there was no way Joel could ever be responsible for a dog.  “Do you know him?”

 

“Yeah, I know him,” Ray nodded, turning back to his game.  “He’s alright.  They call him the Risemonger on the streets.  He’s no Mogar, but he’ll do in a pinch, I suppose.”

 

“They’ve got him on assassin jobs now.  Can’t take the floof with him, so she gets to come stay with me,” Jeremy said.

 

“We’re really not allowed to fraternize with the Roosters?” Ray asked. 

 

“Nope.”

 

“Since _when_?”

 

“Since around the time I got here, I guess,” Jeremy said.

 

“God, when the fuck did I break up with Joel?” Ray more asked himself than Jeremy.

 

“Around the time I got here, probably,” Jeremy repeated.  “They were really trying to pull Fake AH and the Roosters away from each other.  They traded me over here for Kerry, because he and Miles are inseparable.”

 

“That’s why Kerry hasn’t been around,” Ray said.  “I knew there was a reason.”

 

“Boy, you really don’t pay very much attention, do you?” Jeremy asked with a slight frown.

 

“Paying attention implies I really give a shit,” Ray replied.  “That can’t be true, though.  It’s only been a few months since Barb and I last–  Hasn’t it?”  Ray used to get lunch with Barbara every few weeks, because she was sympathetic to his mandatory hours out of the penthouse, but wasn’t draining on Ray’s energy.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeremy said blankly.

 

“So.  You’re dating the Risemonger?” Ray asked, conversationally, willing to give Jeremy at least a quarter of his attention until he got to the bottom of this business.  He was just farming kills for cash for an achievement anyway.  Nothing that required his full attention.

 

“What?” Jeremy asked, head jerking in surprise.  “No?”

 

“Oh, alright,” Ray laughed.  “Sure.”

 

“But I’m not?  It’s not like that,” Jeremy said.

 

“Okay, you’re fucking him without all the holding hands and going to the movies bullshit?  Can relate, my man.  He’s in real good shape these days, I bet he’s great in bed,” Ray said.

 

“No – I mean, I bet he is, but I wouldn’t know, I swear,” Jeremy said.  Ray sent a surveying look at Jeremy and Jeremy looked pretty innocent.  Bella licked Ray’s face happily.  Ray smiled and pet her.  She snuggled down to lay across both of their laps.  “Jon and I are just friends.”

 

“With joint custody of the cutest fucking dog in the world?” Ray asked, petting Bella some more.

 

“Maybe,” Jeremy said.  “Or just a kid who babysits a dog while her dad is out doing his job.”

 

“We should get a crew pet.  A dog or some cats,” Ray said.  “Lindsay would love it.”

 

“Geoff would never let us,” Jeremy said.

 

“Right, but Jack would love to have them as much as we do,” Ray said, a smile growing on his face.  “Where’s Michael and Gavin?”

 

“I dunno, working, I think,” Jeremy said.

 

“Hmm,” Ray said, frowning and focusing on his game for a second.

 

“But Matt and Trevor are here, and they’re probably not busy,” Jeremy said.  Ray grinned.  Within seconds he’d saved his game, turned off his xbox, and started sprinting to his room.  “What are you doing?” Jeremy yelled after him.

 

“Suit up!” Ray yelled back.  Ray threw on his heistwear, briefly considered showering or shaving (and threw that idea out the window), and was back in the living room within minutes.  He threw a text to Ryan, something like, _what kind of dog do you want?_ and patiently waited for the stream team to suit up and get back to the living room.  “Patiently” for Ray was about ten seconds, then he headed down the hall to see what the hell was taking them so long.  “Yo!”

 

“Sorry, what are we doing?” Matt asked, trying to talk around the adorable blond puppy dog in his lap, trying to lick his face off.

 

“Getting some penthouse pets,” Ray said.  “Suit up, assholes.  We’re going on a mission.”

 

“No offense, I don’t want Geoff to kill or fire me,” Trevor said, raising his hand.

 

“I outrank you,” Ray told him.  “Suit up, let’s go.  Pet store.”

 

“You ran the most successful heist this crew’s ever seen seven days ago, with weeks of prep work, and now you want to… rob a pet store on ten seconds notice?” Jeremy asked.

 

“You guys wanna be Lads?  You gotta act like Lads,” Ray said.  “It’s not all blowing up warehouses, taking shots, and doing reckless stunts for Gavin’s YouTube channel.”

 

“It’s not?” Matt asked.  “Coulda fooled me.”

 

“Am I a Lad?” Trevor asked.

 

“You won’t ever be if you don’t _suit up_.  Let’s get going,” Ray said.  No one moved except Bella, who jumped from Matt’s lap to jog in circles around Ray’s feet.  “Do you guys not have suits?”

 

“Uh…” Trevor said, looking at Matt.

 

“Jeremy, what did you wear on the heist?” Ray asked.

 

“I dunno, jeans?  Am I supposed to have something specific?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Oh my God.  Just put on _something_ and Gavin can take care of this later.  Let’s get going before I change my mind about going out,” Ray said.

 

“Am I… coming with you?” Matt asked.

 

“Yeah.  Let’s go,” Ray said.  He turned around and left the room, Bella at his heels.  Matt was the first one out of the room, having just pulled on his red hoodie.

 

“I’ve… uh… never actually shot a gun before…” Matt confessed.

 

“Who do you think you’re going to shoot today?” Ray asked.  Matt stared at him.  “Okay, yeah, police, maybe.  Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

 

“What’s the plan?” Trevor asked, joining them in the hallway.

 

“Can you drive?” Ray asked Trevor.  Trevor nodded.

 

“I’m fully trained,” Trevor assured him.  “I’ve been here longer than you have, kid.”

 

“I highly doubt that,” Ray snorted, but not bothering to correct him just now.  “Trevor, you drive.  Matt, grab a portable when we hit the armory, you can sit in the car.  Jeremy and I will do the stealing.”

 

“Aw, I never get to do anything fun,” Matt complained.  “I’m just as much crew as Jeremy.”

 

“You’re green,” Ray told him.

 

“Not true, I’ve been on way more jobs than he has,” Matt argued.

 

“Okay, you have zero field experience,” Ray said.  “You’re always sitting safe up in your office.”  Matt sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to talk his way out of it.  Jeremy came out of his bedroom, fully dressed.  “Finally.  Can we go– Holy fuck what are you _wearing_?”

 

“What?” Jeremy asked, looking down at his outfit.  “You said I needed a heist outfit.”  Jeremy was wearing yellow pants, an orange shirt, and a purple fitted blazer.  He had black boots, black gloves, and on top of his green hair was the white cowboy hat from the day at the parking garage.  His mirrored aviators were hanging off the front of his chest pocket.

 

“Oh God,” Trevor groaned.  “I think I’m having a stroke.”  Bella nosed at his legs and he bent down to pat her so he didn’t have to look at the atrocity of Jeremy’s outfit.

 

“Jeremy, are you colorblind?” Matt asked.

 

“No?” Jeremy replied.

 

“Okay, so you know exactly what you’re doing?” Matt continued.  “Is that worse?  I can’t tell.  Is this what a stroke is?  Trevor, you’re sciencey.”

 

“No, I’m not that kind of sciencey,” Trevor said.  “Let’s hit the armory.”

 

“Seconded,” Ray said, tearing his eyes from the abomination in front of him.  Ray led the other three and Bella into the conference room, and flicked the switch to open the armory.  Nothing happened.  Ray rolled his eyes, of course Geoff wouldn’t trust the kids home alone.  “Matt, hack the armory, would you?”  Matt sat at the built-in setup in the conference room and tapped some keys.

 

“Geoff locked us out?” Jeremy asked, a little put out.

 

“He locked you guys out,” Ray said.  “I don’t think he expected me to get up.”

 

“And we’re in,” Matt said as the armory door unlocked and fell open.

 

“Thank you,” Ray said sweetly, heading inside and grabbing two pistols and a few grenades.  He slung his SMG over his shoulder and grabbed some body armor.

 

“Body armor?” Matt asked, hesitantly.  “I thought we were hitting up a pet store.”

 

“Do you think I want to spend another week healing a fucked up shoulder?” Ray asked.  “It finally stopped hurting yesterday.  Grab a pistol or two.  I’ll take point if we find some cops.”

 

“Have we asked ourselves: should we be doing this?” Matt asked.

 

“Have we ever?” Jeremy responded.

 

“I’m more than qualified to lead a little pet store robbery, come on,” Ray rolled his eyes.  He zipped his hoodie back up over his body armor.  “Grab some armor if you want it.  Don’t blame me if you go in underprepared.”  Bella hopped into the chair next to Matt’s.  “Oh, and you.”  Ray went back into the armory for a few moments and came back with a bulletproof doggy vest someone had stolen out of a cop car once.  “You’ll want this.”  Bella barked happily and ran over to Ray to get fitted out for the heist.  “Jon would never forgive us if we didn’t dress you right.”  Bella seemed to love her vest and wagged her floof tail happily.  “Jeremy, you wanna grab a sniper?  You never know what we might need.”  Jeremy nodded and pulled his own pink sniper rifle off the wall of the armory.

 

“You really should go get yours, it’s probably right where you left it,” Jeremy said.

 

“I know, I know,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “But, like, if it isn’t, I have to go through the whole ordeal of replacing it, it’s a lot of work when I can just make you do my job for me.”  Trevor came back out of the armory too, locked, loaded, and ready to go.  “Matt, you grabbing anything, or do you plan to punch any cops we see?”

 

“Uh…” Matt said, hesitantly, looking from where he was sitting at the computer into the armory.

 

“I’ll cover him,” both Jeremy and Trevor said pretty near the same time.

 

“Alright, just don’t start fighting over which one of you gets to save the damsel in distress, alright?  We can all be heroes,” Ray said.  The armory door shut with a very satisfying and exaggerated series of clicking sounds.  “Let’s rock and roll.”

 

Ray honestly had no idea where the nearest pet store was or if they’d be able to find what they wanted at one.  He didn’t know where the nearest animal shelter was.  He didn’t know where the nearest ASPCA was.  He didn’t know where the nearest evil corporation who was general cruel to animals was.  Trevor was driving, and didn’t ask for directions.  They drove around for five minutes before someone bothered to ask.

 

“Do you… know where you’re going?” Matt asked Trevor.

 

“No,” Trevor admitted.  “I was hoping someone would eventually say something.”

 

“God, you’re just the worst,” Matt said, swiping open the tablet on his lap and typing into the GPS.

 

“Us?  The worst?” Trevor asked.  “What about that time you kept just slightly changing Michael’s waypoint thinking he would catch on, but instead he just got really lost, and rage crashed his car?”

 

“He still doesn’t know that was me,” Matt giggled.

 

“I suddenly feel less safe,” Ray said.  “You realize we trust you to have our backs, right?”

 

“He was just messing with him,” Jeremy told Ray.

 

“Yeah, and it probably cost Michael 10 or 15 grand to fix his car,” Ray shot back.

 

“Why do you care?  Don’t you hate Michael?” Trevor asked.

 

“I… don’t know,” Ray sighed.  “I definitely don’t hate him.  He’s alright, I guess.  Kind of annoying sometimes?  Kind of a show off?  But he’s good at his job.  But so is Ryan, and Jack, and Jeremy.”

 

“Me?” Jeremy asked, eyes wide.

 

“Yeah, dude, of course,” Ray said.  “You got my back on this, right?”  Jeremy hesitated.  “Dude, just don’t shoot me and we’re cool.”

 

“Can do,” Jeremy assured him.

 

Trevor pulled up across the street from what looked like it was quite possibly the Los Santos Pound.

 

“What’s the plan, boss?” Trevor asked Ray.

 

“Well, first of all, never call me boss again,” Ray said.  “Jeremy and I are gonna head in and liberate a few good animals.  Pop the back, and we’ll try to wrangle them inside.”

 

“Which will probably be the hardest part,” Jeremy added.

 

“Yeah, until we start having to fight off cops,” Ray said.  “Then, drive like hell back home.”

 

“What about Bella?” Matt asked.

 

“She’s coming with us,” Ray said.  “Right?”  Bella continued to be the cutest dog ever.  “Good doggo.”  Ray checked his phone to see if Ryan had replied about the dog.  He had.  Ryan said, _What?  Did you leave the house?  Where are you???_   Ray chuckled and wrote back, _You’ll see in ten to fifteen minutes, don’t worry._   Ryan had replied before Ray could stuff his phone back in his pocket, _don’t get fired._   Ray smirked and shoved his phone into his pocket.

 

“Can I come with you guys?” Matt asked, hesitantly.  “You don’t really need surveillance or anything.”

 

“Sure,” Jeremy spoke before Ray could.  “Help me pick out a cat.”

 

“Get a fluffy one,” Trevor told them.

 

“Alright, you two are getting a cat, we’ll get like two cats, maybe?” Ray said.  “One for you guys and one for Jack that Lindsay can look at when she’s sad.  And a dog for me and Rye.”

 

“Can I get a snake?” Matt asked.

 

“No, you have to buy a snake,” Ray told him.  “Snakes need a lot of shit, you need a tank and a lamp and like dead mice…  Also Geoff will straight up murder you if you bring a snake into his house.”

 

“Ugh, imagine the lecture,” Jeremy said.  “I bring you into my house, give you a job, and hot water, and you do _this_?  Matthew Braggasaur, I believed in you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt sighed. 

 

“Are we ready?  Can we do this now?” Ray asked.

 

“Sync,” Jeremy said affirmatively.

 

“Sync,” Matt echoed.  Jeremy winked at Trevor and the three of them walked casually into the building.  Ray felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out to look at it.  Another text from Ryan: _Gavin wants a cat._   Ray rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay it’s three cats now,” Ray whispered to Jeremy, who nodded, looking around at all the cats in cages around them.  Their guns were tucked away, and besides the happy dog running around sniffing everything wearing a bulletproof vest, they could have looked normal.

 

Jeremy engaged the proprietor of the establishment in some small talk while Matt and Ray looked around at the cats and dogs.  Ray saw Jeremy smile at the guy running the place, and he disappeared into a different room.  Jeremy came back to Matt and Ray, smiling happily.

 

“Are we good?” Ray asked.  Jeremy nodded.  “Good.”  Ray sauntered away from the cats to check out the dogs.  Jeremy sidled up beside Matt to check out some cats.

 

“See any good ones?” Jeremy asked him.

 

“I dunno, Trevor wants a fluffy one,” Matt said.

 

“Aww, lookit the black one,” Jeremy said.  “And the yellow one!  And the gray one!”

 

“Jeremy, look at all of them.  They’re all beautiful creatures.  How are we going to pick just one?” Matt asked.

 

“Technically we get to pick three,” Jeremy said.  “One for us, one for Jack, and one for Gavin.”

 

“This is so stressful,” Matt said.  “The fluffy grey one is like the most beautiful cat I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Are you a fuckin furry now?” Jeremy asked.

 

“So what if I was?” Matt asked.

 

“That’s your business,” Jeremy snorted, walking a few steps away to get a closer look at the yellow one.  “I think Jack should get one of the orange ones, because she’s kind of a redhead.”

 

“Alright, sounds reasonable,” Matt said.  “And for Gavin?”

 

“Oh!” Jeremy said, clasping his hand over his mouth as he approached the far end of the cats.  “We have to get the tiny black kitten.  Look!”  Matt joined Jeremy and easily agreed.

 

“So, the fluffy grey, the orange, and the black kitten?” Matt reiterated.  Jeremy nodded.  “Alright, let’s get them into carriers so we can stack them in the back of the car.”  He and Jeremy got to work.  Just as they managed to wrangle the kitten into a box, Ray came running up to them, Bella and a puppy running with him.

 

“Ready to go?  We should probably leave about now.  I think I pissed off the guy,” Ray said.  “He might have hit the panic button…. You know how it is.”  Jeremy grabbed two of the cat carriers and Matt picked up the other and the three of them ran out of the store.  Trevor saw them running and popped the hatchback.  Jeremy stacked the cats in for the hopefully short trip back to the penthouse, minorly fretting about their safety until Trevor and Matt yelled for him to get in the car. 

 

The backseat was crowded with Ray, Jeremy, and the two dogs, and they could hear sirens approaching them as Trevor started driving.

 

“Just head toward the penthouse and don’t look back,” Ray said, reaching forward to open the sunroof.

 

“I’ll do it,” Jeremy told him.

 

“No, I got us into this,” Ray said.  “And I’m the better shot, gimme your rifle.”

 

“Ray, c’mon,” Jeremy said, as Ray tried to pull his gun from him.

 

“Jeremy, please,” Ray frowned, tugging the gun from his grip.  Jeremy sighed as he gave up.  Ray went up through the sunroof, aiming at the police behind them, then changed his mind and came back down, handing the gun back to Jeremy.  “You’re right.  You do it.”  Jeremy was just tall enough to see through the scope of the rifle as he set it on the roof of the car, and a few well timed, well placed shots later, the car behind them crashed into a telephone pole.  Trevor pulled onto Alta Street, racing toward their building at the corner…  Their garage was around back, could they get there before another cop showed up?

 

The garage door opened and Trevor pulled the car inside just as Jeremy spotted another car in the distance. 

 

“That was super clutch, dude,” Jeremy said to Trevor as they all piled out.  Bella jumped on Jeremy and Jeremy picked her up, putting her on his shoulders, around his neck like a dog scarf.  She looked as happy as can be.  Matt and Trevor got the cats out of the back, and Ray picked up his new puppy, knowing he wasn’t responsible enough to take care of a puppy, and wondering where his brain was.  Ryan was going to suggest they give the puppy to the humane society, and Ray was going to have to agree with him.  But it was so cute??  Maybe Ryan would take most of the important duties, like remembering to feed it, and cleaning up after it, and Ray could do the fun stuff like going on walks and offering lots of doggie cuddles.

 

Ryan, Gavin, and Meg were in the living room when they got up there.

 

“Heyyyy,” Jeremy said, clearly worried he was going to be in trouble as he tried to hide the various cats and dogs that were on his person.

 

“Good God, what are you wearing?  That’s hideous – Wait, is that… the Risemonger’s dog around your neck?” Gavin asked.

 

“Uh… yeah,” Jeremy admitted.

 

“You guys stole Jon’s dog?!” Meg exclaimed.  “You have to give her back!”

 

“Yeah… we do not want a gang war on our hands,” Ryan agreed.

 

“No, it’s fine, guys, really,” Jeremy protested, putting down the cat he was carrying (the black kitten still in the carrier) and picking Bella up off his shoulders and setting her on the floor.  She barked happily and trotted over to nose at Gavin and Meg.  Ryan had crossed the room to where Ray was holding his new puppy.

 

“Risinger’s a fucking assassin, he’ll rip us apart for her,” Gavin said to Jeremy.  “You have to give her back _now_.”

 

“No–” Jeremy protested again.

 

“You got a puppy?” Ryan asked.  Ray grimaced.

 

“You’re going to tell me I can’t take care of a puppy, aren’t you?” Ray said.

 

“No,” Ryan said.  “I’m not your dad.”  He laughed.  “What’s our little doggo’s name?”

 

“Oh, I dunno,” Ray said.

 

“How did you even get her?” Gavin further interrogated Jeremy.

 

“I’m babysitting her!” Jeremy exclaimed.  “It’s all legit.  Jon knows she’s here.  I’ve been taking care of her every few weekends for four years!  Trevor – Matt – tell him.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Trevor shrugged, taking their grey cat to his and Matt’s room.

 

“That’s what he says?” Matt said.  “I don’t really know?  It seems legit?  I’ve seen Jeremy with Jon a few times, and nothing seems fishy?”

 

“Are you a spy?” Gavin asked Jeremy, climbing over the back of the couch to get closer to Jeremy, who backed up a few steps, scared.

 

“N-no!  What?  Why – how would I be a spy?  Do you hear yourself?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Why else would you be colluding with the Roosters?” Gavin asked.

 

“Because I came here from there!” Jeremy exclaimed.  “Remember?  You knew that!”

 

“I did know that,” Gavin said, backing off a bit, but still frowning at Jeremy.

 

“Here’s your damn cat,” Jeremy said, opening the kitty carrier.  The tiny black kitten cautiously walked out, big eyes staring around at everyone.  Gavin began squeaking very high and quiet.

 

“For me?” Gavin asked, bending down to look closer.

 

“Yeah,” Jeremy said.  “You’re welcome.  C’mon Matt.”  Jeremy led Matt down the hall to leave Jack’s cat in her bedroom.  Bella trotted along behind them.

 

“It’s so small,” Gavin squeaked.  The kitten had gotten scared and run back into its carrier.  “Aw, no, come back.”  He stuck his hand in after it, coming back with the kitten in his hand.  The kitten let out a very small meow.  Gavin looked like he might cry.  His voice went ultrasonic as he cooed over the kitten.

 

“Okay, I’ve known Gavin forever, and I’ve never seen him lose his shit over anything, let alone a fucking kitten,” Ray snorted.  “What a loser.”

 

“Shut up,” Gavin threw back, annoyed and British.  “Look at this!”

 

“I know,” Ray grinned.  “Jeremy knows you really well.”  Ray brought his sleeping pupper to the couch and set it down next to his own butt print he’d only left about an hour ago, and turned his xbox back on. 

 

“Oh, no, don’t do that,” Ryan complained. 

 

“Ryan, this game is not going to finish itself,” Ray told him.  “You brainstorm names for the pupper, I’m going to be playing this game.”

 

Ryan sighed heavily.

 

“Ray, sweetie, I don’t want to impose on you or anything,” Meg began, leaning over the back of the couch to talk into his ear, playing with the strings on his hoodie as she did, “but your boyfriend really wants you back.”

 

“Then he should have known better than to buy me this game,” Ray replied.

 

“I told him not to,” Gavin piped up.

 

“See, Gav knows,” Ray said.  Meg stood up, a sour look on her face.  “Aw, don’t feel bad, Gav and I know each other like the maps in the original Halo.”

 

“It’s true,” Gavin agreed.

 

“But, like, you two do too,” Ray said of Ryan and Meg.

 

“I wish that wasn’t true,” Ryan muttered, but not quietly enough.

 

“Yeah, me too, sit down and keep me company.  I’m at the boring part of the game,” Ray said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the appropriate place to talk about how in part four of the crash lets watch, they were talking about how gavin made fun of jeremy's last name, and gavin not remembering the literal ahwu intro they did together, and Jeremy mentions that Ray knew exactly who he was, even when he was just a fan? What the fuck? It's 2017, i don't need this in my life. I'm about to cancel raywood again because jeremy talks about ray so goddamn much, it's just AWFUL. And it's not even that much, it's just that it's almost always him that does it. doolray is the ultimate. what a fan.
> 
> Anyway. that probably wasn't the right place to bitch about that, cuz it won't even be relevant by the time i post the next chapter but i literally can't think about anything else. It's entirely possible I'll never mention these cats again. Sometimes things happen on a whim and I forget about them. Also, this story has Ray, the most unreliable narrator in history, so we'll all be lucky if he remembers he has a dog.
> 
> Next time: Ray finishes his game and goes outside. Yeah, that makes it sound super interesting. If you've read this far, you're not going to stop now. I'm assuming you're Super Invested in the shenans of ray and ryan, and we'll get more of them being together next chapter. and more of everyone else too. probably another chill chapter like the parking garage, but no promises. I think we deserve another chill chapter before ryan finally Does The Thing. Let's be honest, he should have done it while ray was playing this game. He probably wouldn't have noticed ryan was gone.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back to lets read: ryan the vagabond guy  
> today we're here with the whole gang as they Go Outside For Once and Don't Start Shit with Randoms. Incredible.

“Do you ever think about your goals for the future?” Gavin asked.  He and Ray were the only two awake.  Ray was so close to perfecting that game, and Gavin had drunk too much caffeinated tea at 2am in what could only be explained as the worst move in history. 

 

“Perfecting this game is right up there,” Ray replied.

 

“No, like the _future_ future,” Gavin said, leaning his head even further into Ray’s shoulder and Ray briefly closed his eyes to stifle the slight pain.

 

“I try to think about the future as little as possible,” Ray said.

 

“But we’re gonna be around for _ever_ , certainly at some point you’re going to have perfected every game,” Gavin said.

 

“Sure.”

 

“I always wanted to direct films.  Be a bigshot Vinewood Director,” Gavin said.  “And be knighted.  Do you think I’ve got a chance at being knighted?”

 

“No.”

 

“X-Ray,” Gavin pouted.

 

“Gav, you’re a criminal.  I think your shot at getting knighted went out the door about eight years ago,” Ray pointed out.

 

“The Queen doesn’t have to know that,” Gavin said.  “I don’t even have papers!  How are they gonna prove anything?”

 

“Boy, don’t open that door,” Ray snorted.

 

“Oh yeah?  Well what did you want to be when you grew up then?” Gavin asked.  Ray was silent for so long, Gavin turned to look at him.  “X-Ray?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ray finally said.

 

“Wot?”

 

“I said I don’t know,” Ray repeated.  “I never had a plan.”

 

“You never wanted to be a firefighter or a cowboy or an astronaut or summat?” Gavin asked, his voice quieter, softer, confused.

 

“I thought eventually I’d stop coming back,” Ray said.  It was very easy to imagine Gavin’s thought process here:  Oh Boy did I open That Door and Bugger Me I Regret This Please Say Something Funny.  No, Gavin had to suffer.  He opened the door, and now he must pay.

 

“Oh… yeah…” Gavin said awkwardly, “but after you moved in here, maybe?”  His voice got higher as he reached the end of the sentence, very clearly uncomfortable.

 

“Dunno, figured it was pretty obvious where I was headed at that point,” Ray said.  “Ramsey Enterprises, a division of Cockbite Industries.”

 

“Ray, I’m sad,” Gavin said.

 

“Yeah, well, you asked,” Ray replied.  “You can go to bed if you want, I won’t be offended.”

 

“Okay, thanks,” Gavin said, getting up from the couch and heading off.  Not too long after that, Ray got his final achievement, saved his game, turned off the xbox for good, and headed to his own room.  He expected it to be empty.  There was no reason for Ryan to be in there, as he had his own room that he rarely used and his own apartment.  But there was Ryan, cuddled up with Charlie, in the bed, both of them fast asleep.  Ray smiled.  There are few things in the world as cute as a sleeping doggo.  Also Ryan was cute too.  Ray tried to get into the bed without waking either of them, but Ryan was probably the world’s lightest sleeper.

 

“Oh, finally done, are we?” Ryan asked.  “Do I get my boyfriend back now?”

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Ray replied, taking off his glasses and setting them on the nightstand.  “You should have seen me when the newest Call of Duty came out.”

 

“Isn’t there one coming out in a few months?” Ryan asked.  Ray nodded grimly.  “Oh boy.”

 

“But you can play with me,” Ray said with a grin.

 

“Well, that’s a plus,” Ryan said with a yawn.  “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

 

“Play with the pupper?” Ray suggested.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Ryan said, yawning even wider.  “Night.”

 

“Night.”

 

Predictably, Ray’s dreams were only about playing the game he’d been playing for the last nine days, interspersed with a Sad Gavin being knighted.  Whatever that was about.  Ray didn’t let dreams affect him that hard.  Usually.

 

“So here’s the thing,” Ray said to Gavin over breakfast.  Jack had made some fried stuff with eggs and Ray had dragged his ass out of his room to eat some.  Michael and Jeremy were getting into some antics on the other side of the room, which would probably result in property damage at the minimum, and severe casualties at the maximum.  “Jeremy has become very rowdy since his induction into the Lads.”

 

“No?” Gavin replied.  “It was your idea to go to that pet shop.”  Ray snuck another piece of his meat to Charlie, who licked his hand.

 

“I saw him turn a can of compressed air into a flamethrower while Nickelback blasted in the background,” Ray said.

 

“We were filming that,” Gavin protested.

 

“He drank half a bottle of fireball and jumped through a wall,” Ray said.

 

“We were filming that too!”

 

“He’s 19.”

 

“He is not,” Gavin said, annoyed.  “He had a birthday.”

 

“You dared him to climb a parking garage,” Ray said.

 

“He didn’t have to do it,” Gavin said with a dismissive hand.

 

“But he did,” Ray replied.

 

“Hell yeah he did.  That was impressive,” Gavin grinned.

 

“He had a dog here??” Ray continued.

 

“You held up a pet store for a bunch of cats, what’s your point?” Gavin asked.

 

“The question is, Why?” Ray asked.

 

“The questions _is_ , X-Ray, do you want to come to Pride with us?” Gavin asked.

 

“What?”

 

“We’re all going, even Ryan, probably.  Do you want to come?” Gavin asked.

 

“Even Michael?” Ray asked.

 

“Sure.”

 

“When?”

 

“Saturday,” Gavin said.

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ray said.  “Will I hate it?”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Yeah, I’m in,” Ray agreed.

 

When Gavin had said “we’re all going”, he literally meant “all”.  People Ray could only swear to have met one or two times before were there in their group, and this was the biggest mistake Ray could have ever made.  But even Griffon was there, so if she could be there, then Ray could be there. 

 

Jeremy had clearly overdone it.  He was covered in rainbow body paint and had rainbow glitter hairspray in his hair.  Gavin had him matched, but not quite so outlandishly.

 

“Learning a lot about Jeremy today,” Ray said quietly to Ryan.  Ryan was giving him a piggy back.  Just for funsies.

 

“Well, you’re not the most observant of people, honestly…” Ryan replied.

 

“I mean, I don’t go around making assumptions about people,” Ray said.  “I’m awkward enough to handle rejection.”

 

“More people than you’d think are flexible around here,” Ryan said.  “They just don’t talk about it all the time.”

 

“Hands down, Jack and Caiti are definitely the cutest,” Meg said from beside Ryan. 

 

“Well, obviously,” Lindsay agreed from Meg’s other side.

 

“So what’s the big deal about this?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s fun,” Meg said.

 

“Is it?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah!  Don’t be such a downer,” Lindsay said.  “There’s karaoke later, and a drag show!  It’s not just a parade and painting yourself with body glitter.”

 

“It seems to be about 85% painting yourself with body glitter,” Ryan said, observing the other three lads as they ran around the park with Charlie, all three of them sporting body glitter (Gavin had rubbed some on Michael against his wishes, and Michael had started chasing Gavin, who’d recruited Jeremy for help).

 

“Even Geoff and Griffon are here,” Meg said to Ray.  Geoff and Griffon were sitting at a picnic table with Jack and Caiti.  Jack had found an even more hideous than usual Hawaiian shirt that was purple with little rainbows and birds on it.  Gavin thought it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen.  Jack loved it. 

 

Jack had instituted a strict ban on bringing weapons, but pretty much everyone had at least one.  Ray had his taser, and Gavin had knives.  Both Michael and Ryan had grenades at a minimum.  Meg had her thigh holster.   If it came down to it, Ray was certain Jack, Ryan, and Michael would somehow pull more weapons than physically possible out of thin air on their persons.

 

Matt, Trevor, and Kdin were all sitting underneath a tree together.  It looked like they were playing Pokemon, and Ray wished he had remembered to charge his DS so he could join them.  The rest of the B-team was lurking around somewhere, and Ray thought he’d even seen Mica Burton with them.  (Did Mica Burton, _the heiress_ , actually work for them?  That didn’t seem right, somehow, but if there was one thing Ray had learned recently, it was that he really needed to pay more attention.)

 

Michael finally tackled Gavin down to the grass and was either tickling him or torturing him, it was hard to hell.  Gavin’s shouts of “Michael, stop!  _Michael_!” didn’t really give any information one way or the other.  Jeremy went over to the tree and sat next to Trevor, leaning in so he could watch his screen.

 

“Are you gonna save him?” Ray asked Meg, as Gavin gave up screaming for Michael to stop, and started screaming for Meg to help him.

 

“Nah,” Meg replied.

 

“What if he dies?” Ray asked.  Meg shrugged.

 

“Lindsay!  Lindsay, my luck!  Help me!!” Gavin continued screaming.

 

“I figure if he can scream, he can breathe,” Ryan said.  Meg nodded.  Lindsay was already running over to get in on the fight.  She turned the tides and between her and Gavin, they managed to pin Michael to the ground.  Probably Michael was more or less letting them do it.  Charlie trotted out of the action, back over to Ryan and Ray.  Ray wiggled until Ryan dropped him, and then sat on the grass to play with his pupper.

 

“A dog, huh?” Meg asked.  Ray nodded, throwing a small stick that was in the grass next to him for Charlie to fetch.  Charlie scampered across the grass to pick it up from where it had landed. “A dog, Rye?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan agreed.  “She’s cute.”  Meg shook her head fondly.  “What?”  Charlie ran back to Ray with the stick, very proud of herself.  Ray tried to take it back from her, but she was too proud to let it go.  A slight struggle ensued.

 

“I dunno.  Neither of you strike me as the co-parenting a puppy type,” she said.

 

“What does that even mean?” Ray asked, throwing the stick again.  Charlie again ran after the stick, dashing back with it in her mouth, so proud of her skill.

 

“I just didn’t think you’d be a dog person,” Meg said.

 

“Do I look like a cat person to you?” Ray asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Meg shrugged.

 

“I get lonely sometimes,” Ray said.  Ryan frowned at him this time.  “No, don’t give me that look, I know you’re like always there, and with a family this big, it’s hard to get a second alone.”  He gestured around at everyone and Charlie followed his hand as if he was throwing something.  “But you have things to do, Ry, work and stuff, and _sleep_ , and isn’t it good that I want to take responsibility of something else living?”

 

“Is that code for ‘baby practice’?” Meg asked, a slight grin growing.

 

“What the fuck,” Ray replied.  “No, babies are gross.”  Ryan’s phone rang as he opened his mouth to say something about babies or dogs and he stopped the conversation to answer it.  His eyebrows got much closer together as he listened to the person who had called him speak.

 

“You listen here, motherfucker, do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” Ryan growled, deep and quiet, but dangerous.  “This is the Vagabond, the Mad fucking King of Los Santos.  Do you want to rethink that statement?”  Ray laughed to himself and continued playing fetch with Charlie, content as could be.  Meg rolled her eyes and went to join Gavin, Lindsay, and Michael, who’d stopped trying to kill each other.  “Too late.  The Vagabond doesn’t give second chances.”  Ryan hung up, but his phone stayed in his hand for a minute longer, sending a text message.  Then he put his phone back in his pocket and sat down next to Ray.  Charlie jumped on his lap and licked his face.  Ryan laughed.

 

“Anyone important?” Ray asked conversationally, as if Ryan was a normal businessman and he’d gotten a perfectly normal call from a client on a weekend.  Across the park, Matt Bragg frowned, pulling his phone out of his pocket to look at the text message he’d received.

 

“Nah, it was nobody,” Ryan said.

 

“Can I come with you?” Ray grinned.

 

“If you want.  It’ll be fun,” Ryan returned his grin.  “Matt will have me their info … after dinner, probably?  We can go then.”

 

“Fuck yeah,” Ray said.  “I’ll get Jeremy to babysit.  Supposedly he’s good with dogs.”

 

Lindsay and Gavin were now trying to rile up Michael, who was steadfastly sitting on the ground with his arms crossed, refusing to participate, while Meg was trying to talk them out of it.  Whatever their argument was about, it was clear Michael’s cool head was slowly dissolving.

 

“Hey, assholes!” Geoff announced, and everyone’s heads turned to look at him.  “Parade.”  Everyone eagerly got up from where they were and started fighting over who got to stand closest to the road in the space available to them.  Ray hopped back into the piggyback Ryan had been giving him since they’d left the penthouse.   Somehow Gavin ended up on Jeremy’s shoulders, which didn’t help Jeremy get a good view at all, but Jeremy was actually so terrified of heights, it was actually mind boggling how well he handled helicopters.

 

Ray almost fell off Ryan’s back as Ryan bent down to clip a leash on Charlie so she wouldn’t run into the street.  She really was a good doggo.  This whole thing with Ryan and the crew was starting to feel so… domestic?  Since Ryan had come clean to the whole crew about his real identity, it seemed like even hanging out in a huge group with the whole crew wasn’t as weird and adrenaline-y as it had been in years past.  Even Ryan and Meg seemed to be finally giving each other space, which Ray couldn’t be more thankful for.  He’d never had a problem with Meg, and Gavin liked her a lot, obviously, so that was good enough for Ray, but he couldn’t help but feel intimidated by her.

 

Michael was also a lot easier to get along with since Ray’s heist.  Michael hadn’t needed Ray to prove himself worthy; Michael had been trying to be Ray’s friend since before Lindsay’s heist.  Ray had been the one who was skeptical of his legitimacy.  It was hard to deny that Michael was genuine when he invited Ray and Ryan out to dinner with him and Lindsay.  After dinner, they’d played casual minigolf, and Ray had had such a good time, he wished they hadn’t spent two years hating each other.

 

At the end of the day, after parades and karaoke and shopping and everyone considering getting new tattoos (and no one actually getting any) and the drag show, and the rainbow glitter bombs that Trevor had made were exploded all over downtown, everyone came back to the penthouse exhausted.  Michael and Ryan were disappointed they didn’t get a chance to use their grenades.  Jack lectured them about bringing grenades when she said no weapons, as she emptied the small arsenal she’d had on her person into the armory.  Ray smirked, very tired, hanging off the doorway as Ryan, Michael, and Jack bickered back and forth in the armory.

 

“Hey, are you gonna make it?” Ryan said, catching Ray as he wobbled a little too far and almost fell.

 

“Probably,” Ray said with a huge yawn.  “I can’t wait to take a shower and go to bed.  Not something I say often.”

 

“God, me too,” Ryan agreed.  “I can’t believe Gavin got glitter all through my hair.  I’ll never get this out.”

 

Ryan’s text tone went off, and he pulled it out of his jeans to look at it.

 

“Jesus, I completely forgot about the call from earlier,” Ryan said, tossing his phone onto Ray’s bed.

 

“Oh, fuck, me too,” Ray said, already halfway out of his clothes.

 

“I guess we can let him live another night,” Ryan said.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“I dunno,” Ray mumbled, heading for the shower.  “Are you coming?”

 

“I’ll use my own shower,” Ryan told him.  “Too tired anyway.”

 

“Mmkay,” Ray said, closing the door to his bathroom.  Ryan left to use his own shower.  When he got back, Ray was lying on his bed, under the covers, snuggled into the dog, and asleep.  Ryan smiled at him.  Nothing would ever be cuter than Ray and Charlie asleep together.  Ryan knew he really should do that job tonight before they had the chance to skip town or fortify their base but… sometimes being the Vagabond had its advantages.  Striking fear into hearts with just a word.  It had certainly never been on his list of life goals, but sometimes you have to take what life deals you.

 

Ryan got into bed next to Ray and Charlie, and Charlie wiggled to get free, then turned around a few times, and laid back down.  Ryan knew he’d be getting up in a few hours to take her outside, but until then, he might as well get some sleep.

 

The one thing troubling Ryan now was his reset.  The subject hadn’t come up between him and Ray for some time now, thankfully.  If he’d realized how focused on that game Ray was going to be, he’d’ve scheduled it for the same time.  Ryan had had time to go through all the material Burnie had sent him, and still thought he was making the right choice.  He had a how and a where prepared, he just needed a when.  Jack and Meg were going to be his only witnesses.  Ray still said he didn’t want to be there, and the Lads had promised to keep him occupied.  The thing that was troubling Ryan is he had no idea how long he was going to be out for, and he was a little concerned his first act after waking up was going to be trying to assassinate his crew members. 

 

Jack wouldn’t let him hurt anyone.  If she thought he wasn’t right, she would put him down again.  Ryan would make sure she knew to do it.  And Michael – Ryan could get him to promise to protect Ray from him, just in case.  There was so much to do, so much planning put into something, all the signs were starting to point to _don’t do it_ , but he had to.  He couldn’t take it any longer.

 

Ryan was battling with the Vagabond inside his head, and it was only getting worse as he got closer to Ray.  Nothing to do with Ray, specifically, just that he spent a heck of a lot more time being Ryan now than he had three months ago.  The less he brought the Vagabond out, the more he itched to go on a murder spree.  That job – it could wait until morning, Ryan reminded himself.  He was tired, for fucks sake, and he wanted to have a good time on the job.  He wasn’t about to show up to a crew’s doorstep in his slippers and take them all out while yawning, dog at his heels. 

 

Or was he?

 

“C’mon,” Ryan muttered to Charlie, impatiently waiting for her to finish her business.  Charlie took this opportunity to sniff even more of the scenery around them.

 

Getting a dog certainly had complicated things, but in a good way.  They both knew as well as anyone else did that in their line of work, having kids was pretty much off the table.  Too dangerous, and no guarantee that immortality was a gene passed on.  That, coupled with the fact that Ray was dead set against kids, meant that this dog was going to be their child for the foreseeable future.  Not that Ryan considered himself the dog’s father in any way.

 

Or did he?

 

Three months, not even, that’s how long he’d been with Ray, and he already saw them as a family.  Maybe it was because of how close knit the crew was.  The whole crew was like family.  Jack and Geoff were mom and dad to Gavin and Ray, and Jeremy too, though he didn’t strictly consider himself an adoptee of the Ramsey family.  Lindsay sometimes called them mom and dad as well, though Michael almost never did.

 

Despite the longevity of his friendship with Jack, Ryan had always considered himself an outsider in the crew.  He was the newest member, he wasn’t family, and he’d hid his identity for so long that he’d been surprised they’d welcomed him in so easily.

 

Him and Ray, though?  He could see them a few years down the road, still causing havoc on the streets and blowing up cars, but he could also see them cozy on the couch with Charlie playing call of duty.  He knew he couldn’t have it both ways.  Ryan was certain he was going to come out of his reset and the ending would be chosen for him, without any input from him: the criminal life or the domestic life.  There was no way he could have both.  One or the other, and choosing in advance would only disappoint him in the end.

 

Truth be told, Ryan didn’t know which he’d prefer.  As much as he’d like to quit the criminal life for a nice family life, he knew he would miss the action on the streets, running from the cops, the thrill of the chase.  But the domestic life certainly had perks too.

 

Ray was right.  Ryan did need a therapist.  Ryan was pretty sure Griffon saw a therapist every other week.  He thought he’d heard Geoff say that once – someone who’d gone legit from their line of work, someone that wasn’t Burnie, but someone who wouldn’t turn them in.  Maybe it was possible Ryan could see someone.  On the other hand, maybe Ryan should try talking to Jack or Geoff about it too.  They’d understand.  Maybe?

 

**

 

“Are you having second thoughts?” Jack asked, half frowning at Ryan’s story and half at the waffle maker that she was fairly certain Gavin had somehow broken.

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Ryan said.  “I want to do it, no matter what the outcome, I just wish the outcome wasn’t so binary.”

 

“You know that _nothing could happen_ , right?” Jack asked him.

 

“At this point, it’s not likely, and I don’t know if that’s worse,” Ryan said.  “I don’t like the power struggle in my head.  I’m trying to be a good person for Ray, but… the adrenaline of the crew is addictive.  You know how it is.”

 

“I do,” Jack agreed.  “Power is addictive, and that’s why some people aren’t meant to have it.  I stepped down, I didn’t want my crew anymore.  No one knows why and all the theories are wrong.  I wasn’t meant to have that much power.  End of story.”

 

“So I should step down?” Ryan asked slowly, confused.

 

“If that’s what you want to do, I will help you explain to Geoff.  If that’s not what you want, then I’ll help you figure out what you do want,” Jack said.

 

“I don’t think starving the Vagabond will kill him,” Ryan said.  “And Ray won’t leave the business.”

 

“I think Ray would do an unhealthy amount of things if you asked him to,” Jack told him.

 

“So, what, now I should break up with Ray too?” Ryan asked, annoyed.

 

“No!  The opposite of that.  Don’t count your ‘domestic life’ fantasy out so quickly,” Jack said.  “Heaven forbid, we unlock the bad ending and you turn into a 100% stone cold goddamn robotic killer,” she knocked on the wooden cabinets next to her, and Ryan followed suit, “ _you_ are still going to be in there.  And if you want that fucking domestic shit with Ray, then I know you are going to get it.  Not to take words away from Geoff, but you are one persistent motherfucker.”

 

“I am that,” Ryan agreed.

 

“If you tell me to, I will put you down as many times as it takes to unlock whichever ending you want to get,” Jack said.  “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

 

“You’re a good friend,” Ryan told her.

 

“I do try,” Jack rolled her eyes.  “I offered to put down Griff, but Geoff wouldn’t let me.”

 

“Enh, if she doesn’t want to, that’s her choice,” Ryan said.  Jack nodded, continuing to fiddle with the waffle iron.

 

“Why the fuck am I fixing this.  I can just go pick up a new one.  It’s not like we’re hurting for cash,” Jack said, shoving the offending waffle iron across the counter.  The waffle iron fell into the sink and broke two empty whiskey glasses.  “Just fucking great.”

 

“I’ll clean it up,” Ryan said, taking a step towards the sink.

 

“Thanks,” Jack sighed, reaching for her phone to text Trevor to bring her a new waffle iron.  “Do you have a date yet?”

 

“I was hoping we could do it as soon as we can get the stuff and coordinate a time,” Ryan said.

 

“Oh, shit,” Jack said, looking up from her phone.  “You’re serious.”

 

“Yeah.  I’m sick of talking about it.  Let’s just get it over with.”

 

“Like right now?” Jack asked.

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Jack,” Ryan said, throwing all the broken glass into the trash.  “The end of this week, if we can manage it.  I want to take Ray out to a nice dinner beforehand and spend the night with him at my apartment.”

 

“Wow tmi,” Jack commented.

 

“So that I can make sure he knows what’s going on,” Ryan continued.  “Gotta make sure Jeremy will take care of Charlie, and Michael’s going to keep Ray occupied.”

 

“Why can’t Ray take care of Charlie?  And keep himself busy?” Jack asked.

 

“Is this going to be your first time meeting Ray?” Ryan replied.  Jack laughed.

 

“Fair point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my notes for this chapter included a color coded list of all the characters by gay/bi/pan etc and holy shit first of all lemme tell you literally almost everyone is bi cuz that's the hella raddest (also i figure why limit yourself), and second of all i literally just FORGOT apparently that mavin is/was a thing and had michael down as the token straightie OOPS anyway.... is that a spoiler? have i mentioned that before? i may have slipped it in casually somewhere
> 
> unrelated  
> next time: ryan is actually going to Do The Thing


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan does The Thing.
> 
> warning for, you know, temporary character death...  
> also really expensive restaurants that none of us will ever go to in our lives  
> also at one point ray hopes he doesn't look "too poor white trash" and i realize ray isn't white (though he is, in his own words, shockingly caucasian). he's also not poor so

“Really, we could have just ordered pizza,” Ray said as he and Ryan sat down at a table in the classiest restaurant Ray had ever been to.  He and Ryan were both in suits, to Ray’s chagrin, and just touching at the menu cost $16.

 

“We haven’t been on a real date, and we might not see each other for a little while,” Ryan replied, unfolding his napkin and putting it in his lap.

 

“Our first date was a real date,” Ray reminded him.

 

“That’s debatable.  Some might say our first date was about a week after I joined the crew when we, along with Meg and Gavin, played the most intense game of Mario Kart in history,” Ryan said.

 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ray said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.  “You came in 11th place.”

 

“Motion controls!” Ryan insisted.  "And I wasn't last!"

 

“Yeah, motion controls, sure, maybe you just suck,” Ray shot back.  Ryan laughed, smiling.  Ray dropped his eyes to the menu in front of him.  Sure, he always joked about how much money Ryan must have just lying around, but this restaurant was overpriced even for them.  In what universe should a lobster roll cost $38?  What the fuck were _haricots verts_?  “Ryan, what language is this?”

 

“Which part?” Ryan asked.

 

“Harry-cots Vertez,” Ray massively butchered the words.

 

“Haricots verts.  Green beans.  French,” Ryan replied immediately.  Ray’s eyes glazed over.  “Do you want me to order something for you?”

 

“Yes, please,” Ray said, setting his menu back down.

 

“Fish, chicken, or steak?” Ryan asked.

 

“Whatever you’re having,” Ray replied.  Ryan continued to peruse the menu while Ray sipped his water.  The waiter had given them both funny looks when they’d declined wine or champagne.  There was bread and butter on the table, and Ray hoped he didn’t look too poor white trash as he grabbed a piece of bread and just started eating it.  Ryan glanced at him and laughed.  “What?” Ray asked, mouth full.

 

“Nothing.  You’re the best,” Ryan said, copying Ray and stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth.  “If we’re going to do a fancy restaurant, we should do it right.”

 

“We might as well.  It’s not like we’ll be allowed back here again,” Ray said, swallowing and immediately shoving more bread into his mouth.

 

“How does steak with peppercorn sauce sound?” Ryan asked.

 

“Great,” Ray agreed.  “Sounds awesome.”

 

“Or would you rather have a bacon cheeseburger?” Ryan asked.

 

“They have a bacon cheeseburger?” Ray asked.

 

“It’s $55,” Ryan replied, continuing to peruse the menu.

 

“What the fuck,” Ray said, pausing his assault on the bread to fathom this.  “A bacon cheeseburger is two bucks at Wendy’s.”

 

“Ray, please,” Ryan rolled his eyes as if to say ‘this barely cuts into my take from the last heist’.

 

“Yeah, I’ll have a burger,” Ray agreed.  Ryan ate another piece of bread while he contemplated the menu a little while longer.  “Why are we really here tonight?”

 

“This is the customary two and a half month anniversary dinner,” Ryan said.  “Where I show you how much I care about you.”

 

“Yes, I am also afraid you won’t come back after tomorrow.  That’s what this is, right?” Ray asked.  Ryan gave a small nod.  “Jack’s gonna work her stupid magic and you’re gonna be fine.  Nothing is going to be different.  You’ll either be… the other guy… or this guy, and either way, you know I’m into it.”  Ryan smiled, just a little bit behind his menu, like he was trying not to.  “And if you’re the other guy, then we’ll be work buddies, who bang.  And if you’re this guy, then we’ll do shit like this.”

 

“Is it too much?” Ryan asked, finally setting down his menu, decided.

 

“Maybe, but it’s fine.  Hopefully the food is really good,” Ray said.  Their waiter came back and Ryan gave their order.

 

“You look really good in that suit,” Ryan said.  Ray fiddled with his tie.

 

“Good, because I feel like a damn clown,” he joked.  “You look good too.  But you always do.  So.”

 

“Would you have preferred Denny’s in our jeans?” Ryan asked.  “Seriously.”

 

“I should grow up someday, right?” Ray replied.

 

“You’ve got a long time ahead of you to do that,” Ryan said.

 

“Don’t remind me,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “How long do immortals live?  Is it actually forever?”

 

“I don’t think anyone really knows,” Ryan said.  “Some people think old age catches up to us eventually, but there’s no evidence to support that.”

 

“When do we stop ageing?” Ray asked.  Ryan shrugged.  “Oh good.”

 

“It probably varies,” Ryan said.  “I don’t think Michael’s aged a day since he turned 15.”

 

“He does have a baby face,” Ray agreed.

 

Some outrageously priced appetizer that Ryan had ordered for them arrived, and holy shit.  Ray had never had better food.  He had to stop himself from moaning after his first bite.  Ryan chuckled.

 

“This is the best shit I’ve ever had,” Ray told him, unashamed.

 

“Glad we didn’t go to Denny’s now?” Ryan countered with a smirk.  Ray ignored him and kept eating.  Ryan didn’t push him for an answer, already knowing what it was, and continued eating as well.

 

After their entrees had arrived, Ray struck up meaningful conversation again.

 

“I will miss you, you know,” Ray said, “even if you’re only gone for a few hours.”

 

“Jack and I have agreed, we’re bunking down in the safe house for at least 24 hours after I wake up, just in case,” Ryan said.  “We agreed it’s for the best.  We both need time to judge whether I’m fit for human interaction.”

 

“Plans change,” Ray shrugged.

 

“But you’ll have the Lads,” Ryan told him.  “You won’t miss me at all.”

 

“Well, you’re damn wrong about that,” Ray snorted, stuffing his outrageously expensive truffle fries into his mouth.

 

“The Lads and Charlie?  Nah, you won’t even know I’m gone,” Ryan said.

 

“We’ll see,” Ray sang.

 

After dinner, Ryan drove them a little ways out of the city, to a secluded elevated spot that overlooked the city lights.  They were far enough away from the city that the light pollution was drained enough to see a few stars.  The pair of them got out of the car, and Ryan spread a blanket over the hood, so they could lay on the car and look up at the sky.

 

“I can still call it off, you know,” Ryan told Ray, holding his hand, and rubbing his thumb over the back of Ray’s hand soothingly.  Ray tilted his head towards Ryan so their heads were touching.  It was nice to have a simple physical connection, a reminder he was there for tonight, even if he wouldn’t be there tomorrow.

 

“You don’t want to call it off,” Ray replied.  “You’ve been talking about this the whole time I’ve known you.”

 

“You were the first person I was close to, and maybe the only person I know, who didn’t need a reset,” Ryan said.

 

“Yeah, well, let’s keep my traumatic childhood out of this,” Ray said.  “You don’t even know the whole story.”

 

“What?” Ryan asked.  A throwaway question, not sure he’d understood.

 

“I’ll tell you about it some other time,” Ray said.  “Don’t ruin this.”  Ryan agreed.  It was quiet for a minute.  Ray looked from the stars back to Ryan’s face.  “You’re scared.  You’re actually scared.”

 

“Of course I’m scared,” Ryan said.  “I scheduled my own death for tomorrow morning.”

 

“Hopefully you have a better time of it than I do,” Ray said.  Ryan didn’t laugh, despite Ray trying to make a joke.  Ray sighed through his nose.  “What are you scared of?”

 

“Losing you,” Ryan’s response was automatic.  Ray pulled his hand out of Ryan’s grip to put his arms around his boyfriend.

 

“I’ll be there if you want me to,” Ray said quietly.  “I will be there for you.”

 

“Can you just… come sit with me before?” Ryan asked, even more quietly.  “You don’t have to stay the whole time.  And I think it’s probably better if you’re not there when I wake up… just in case… but – please?”

 

“Of course,” Ray replied.  It was quiet between them for a second, the sounds of nature catching up to their ears.  Ray thought it was possible Ryan was crying, but didn’t mention it.  “Is Meg still going to be there?”

 

“No, I convinced her she didn’t want to do it,” Ryan said.  “She’s got her own life now, without me.  It’s just Jack and I.”

 

“Jack and me,” Ray corrected.

 

“Yeah, that.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Ray confirmed again, pulling Ryan in a little tighter than he had.  He was pretty sure Ryan was crying now, but didn’t really know what to do.  “I appreciate you setting up this romantic location, and the stars and stuff, but if you want to go back to your place, we can do that too.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Ryan said.  “This isn’t very comfortable…”  He pulled away from Ray and wiped his face with the blanket, then sat up.  Ray followed suit.  “Our last night together.”

 

“Not forever,” Ray said, sliding off the hood of the car and onto his feet. 

 

“But for a while,” Ryan said.

 

“So we’re finally gonna bang, right?” Ray asked, unable to stop a dumb grin from appearing on his face.

 

“Ha ha,” Ryan said sarcastically.  “As usual, you only want me for my body.”

 

“Good thing that’s not changing at all,” Ray joked.

 

“You don’t know that, I could have a Steve Rogers in Captain America esque transformation,” Ryan joked back.

 

“And be even more buff?  Jesus, Rye, I might drop dead if you got any hotter,” Ray laughed.

 

“You just pop a boner so hard it kills you,” Ryan laughed too.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s happened to someone before,” Ray said.

 

“What if it was the opposite way and I became the skinnier Steve?” Ryan asked.

 

“Oh,” Ray said, suddenly serious.  “I dunno, Ry, I don’t think I can handle that.  I’m not into skinny little twinks.”

 

“Like Gavin?” Ryan joked.

 

“Alright, alright, no one said you had to bring him up,” Ray said.  “Calm down over there.”

 

“Right, and Joel Heyman is just the buffest guy ever,” Ryan continued.

 

“You don’t know who else I’ve dated,” Ray said in his own defense, though that was pretty much all of his long term relationships.

 

“I’m just teasing you,” Ryan laughed.

 

“What’s your type again?” Ray shot back.

 

“Women that could kick my ass and men that understand my need for power bottoming,” Ryan replied smoothly.

 

“Oh,” Ray said, surprised that Ryan had an answer for that on tap.  “Okay then.”

 

When they got back to Ryan’s apartment, they changed from their suits into something more comfortable, and decided to throw a movie on instead of playing a game.  They weren’t really paying attention to the movie, more lying on the couch together, enjoying the other’s company for one more night.

 

**

 

Ryan was so amped up he could barely drive to the safehouse.  Ray offered to drive, but Ryan insisted he could do it.

 

“Jack’s going to be there with you, you’ll be alright,” Ray reminded Ryan.

 

“I would never have gotten this job if it wasn’t for Jack,” Ryan said quietly, fingers white around his steering wheel.

 

“Why not?” Ray asked curiously.  The Vagabond was an asset to the crew, the strongest member they had.  Vagabond and Mogar together?  Unstoppable.

 

“Would you want the Vagabond in your crew?” Ryan asked dryly.  “A rumored kill count in the quadruple digits, a soulless killer, a psychopath, a sociopath, a masked assassin?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m glad you’re on our side,” Ray shrugged.

 

“With the number of crews I’d taken out?  There was a period of several months when I slaughtered one crew a _week_ ,” Ryan said.

 

“How did you even _do_ that?” Ray asked, more impressed than anything.

 

“With bullets, mostly,” Ryan replied, not really answering the question Ray had asked.  “Some knives.”  His right hand shook as he moved it from the steering wheel to the gear shift.  Ray placed his hand over Ryan’s without saying a word.  “No one wanted me in their crew.”

 

“Then why did Jack want you for Fake AH?” Ray asked, prompting the question Ryan had been working toward.

 

“Because she believed in me,” Ryan said, finally looking over at Ray.  “She knew me when I was just Ryan, and she thought just maybe I could be reined in.  I didn’t even believe it.  And I don’t admit I’m wrong easily.”

 

“Well, Geoff never believed I would need an SMG, but that makes you both wrong,” Ray cut through the serious conversation with his sarcasm, making Ryan chuckle a bit.  “You’re a good guy, Ryan.  You’re going to be fine.  Jack won’t let you do anything too out of the normal realm.”

 

“I wish I’d made her a list of things to watch out for,” Ryan lamented, a little less tense than he had been.

 

“I’m sure she knows.  She’s known you for, what, forever?” Ray joked.  The corner of Ryan’s mouth twitched upwards for the briefest of moments, but Ray caught it.

 

“Something like that,” Ryan replied.

 

**

 

Jack was surprised to see Ray when they walked into the safe house, but Ray quickly brushed it off.  Jack didn’t need to know how scared Ryan was, though she’d have to be stupid to not see how bad he was shaking.  Ray clasped his hand tighter around Ryan’s, which Ryan appreciated, but it didn’t stop him shaking.  It was nerves, obviously, but nothing would truly prepare him.

 

“You won’t feel anything,” Jack assured him.  “You’ll be safe, right here, with me, the whole time.”

 

“What if – what if we’ve got it all wrong and I don’t come back?” Ryan asked.

 

“You’re going to come back,” Jack assured him.  “You are not a mortal man, James Ryan Haywood.”

 

“What – what does it feel like?  What happens?” Ryan asked, trying to keep his voice steady and failing.  Ray squeezed his hand again in a comforting gesture as they walked into the bedroom and Ryan kicked off his shoes to get onto the bed.

 

“You won’t feel anything,” Jack repeated.  “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.  You fall asleep here, you wake up, and it’s over.  You won’t remember.  No one does.”

 

“That’s… not totally true,” Ray interjected quietly.  Jack frowned at him.  “Ghosting is very uncommon, but it happens.”

 

“I thought that was a myth,” Ryan said.

 

“Nope,” Ray replied.  “Ghost Ray, six bullshit days.”  He made an ironic peace sign with his free hand.  “But if it didn’t happen the first time, it won’t start now.”

 

“You can still call it off,” Jack reminded Ryan.

 

“No,” Ryan said immediately.  “I want to do this.  I have to do this.”

 

“Okay,” Jack said, standing up from where she was seated to begin what she needed to do.  “I’m going to hook you up to an IV.”  Ryan nodded.  Jack ripped open an antiseptic wipe and started prepping.  Ray stared, taking in the irony of making sure a literal lethal injection was sterile.  “It’s just an IV, it’s not even hooked up to anything yet.”  She held up the needle with two tubes hanging off it that were, in fact, not attached to anything.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ryan apologized, still trying to stop shaking.

 

“How can I make you more comfortable?” Jack asked Ryan, genuinely concerned.

 

“I don’t think you can,” Ryan replied.

 

“No matter what happens, we’ll be here, Ry,” Ray reminded him.  “In four hours, in four days, if it takes two weeks, as soon as Jack calls, I’ll be right here.  Unless you want me to stay.  I will, if you want me to.”

 

“No, you have fun with the Lads.  I’m sure they’ve got something planned,” Ryan said.

 

“It’s actually just Michael.  Gavin ditched, and Jeremy’s got schoolwork or something,” Ray said.  “It’s… It’ll be weird.”

 

“Well, don’t stay out too late, say no to drugs, and remember: Nintendo sucks,” Ryan attempted humor.

 

“Hard cut to me and Michael blazing it up and playing Mario Kart at 3 in the morning,” Ray joked.

 

“Ow!” Ryan exclaimed, turning his head to look at Jack.  “What the fuck?”

 

“It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” she said innocently.  She’d snuck the IV into his arm while Ray had him distracted.  She pulled a drip on a stand closer to them.  “I’m going to connect the sedative.  Okay?  You’ll find you’re getting very sleepy and everything is starting to fade.  Once you’re out, I’ll give you the lethal dose and let the universe sort you out.  This is your last chance to back out.  Are you still sure you want to go ahead with this?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.  Jack connected the drip to his IV.  “How long… how long until I’m out?”

 

“Very quickly,” Jack told him.  “I’d wager you’re probably out right now.”

 

“But I can hear you,” Ryan mumbled, getting quieter.  His body was fairly lax, his shakes had stopped, and his eyes had drooped closed.

 

“And it’s as easy as that,” Jack said to Ray.  “I’m aiming for somewhere between moderate and deep sedation.  Don’t exactly have breathing tubes here.” 

 

“So he’s just… sleeping?” Ray asked.  Jack nodded, prepping the injection to the other tube attached to his IV.  “And that will kill him?”

 

“Definitely,” Jack said.  “We don’t know what he can metabolize through as an immortal, so I really overdid it.  This would take Michael down two or three times over.  Michael very graciously let me test on him.”

 

“Ryan’s more powerful than Michael, that’s for sure,” Ray agreed.

 

Ryan, though sedated, could hear Jack and Ray’s conversation, and it was almost like his mind knew it was happening, but just didn’t care.  What a blissful state.  He could stay like this forever, half asleep, listening to his friends talk.

 

“I’m not leaving until he is stone dead,” Ray’s voice floated through the fog of Ryan’s state.  Ray was nice.  Ryan liked him a lot.  He always had.  Some people just didn’t _understand_ Ray.  Didn’t know that the memes and self-deprecation were all part of his humor.  He actually was really smart.  Maybe he wasn’t smart in the same ways as Gavin or Trevor, but he could do basic math in his head faster than anyone Ryan had ever met, and probably less basic math, though that came up less often.

 

“Alright, here we go,” Jack said.  Jack was nice too.  She’d sat with him, going through dozens of ways of doing this until they found one that they both liked.  Though Ryan had insisted about six times she should just shoot him, she didn’t want to.  She wanted something more humane.  The science all said the less traumatic the circumstances, the more human you are.  Jack had come up with a few different lethal injection ideas, researching each one carefully.

 

“Good night sweet prince,” Ray said.  Night?  Ryan should probably sleep then.  He settled even further away from consciousness to take his respite and –

 

No, wait.  No, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

Why did his entire body feel like it was on fire? 

 

Ryan screamed, but the scream was only inside his head.  His whole body seemed to shake with the force of being set on fire from within, but it was only in his mind.  He screamed and screamed with pain and no one came, no one was there, only himself in his own mind, blood boiling within him, until finally his heart stopped.

 

And then there was nothing.  Only black.

 

**

 

Jack and Ray watched his already limp body go completely dead without a single hitch.  Jack tried to find a pulse in three different places, failing each time.

 

“He’s gone,” she told Ray.  Ray didn’t realize he was crying until Jack hugged him.  “It’s okay, he’s going to come back.  We all do.  It’s part of who we are.”

 

“Are you sure?” Ray asked, finally able to show he was just as terrified as Ryan had been.

 

“Of course.  He’s already done it once before,” Jack reminded him.  “He’ll come back, and he’ll be Ryan, and the two of you will live happily ever after with your dog.”

 

“Yeah,” Ray said, pulling away from her to wipe his eyes with the cuffs of his hoodie.  “Yeah, I hope so.”

 

“No, you _will_ so,” Jack corrected him.  “I’m not letting him out of here unless he can give me the play by play of your relationship and I know he is not going to go nuts on you in the night.”

 

“I’ll be fine if he does,” Ray said.

 

“No,” Jack shook her head.  “You are not going ghost, not this time.”  Ray looked at Ryan’s lifeless body on the bed.  Jack followed his gaze and smiled sadly.  “He’ll be back.”  She reached out and felt his forehead.  Immortals tended to stay warm when dead, and Ryan was no exception now.

 

“I don’t – I don’t want to lose him,” Ray said, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding Ryan’s hand again, stroking gently.  Ray was thinking back to when his mom had died.  He was 12 years old, screaming for his mom to come back to him, but she was gone.  He’d sobbed over her body for hours, and ran when the police finally showed up.

 

“This isn’t like when you lost your mom, Ray,” Jack said, knowing where Ray’s head was.  “He’s coming back to you.”

 

“I just… I have to go,” Ray said in a rush, standing up and running out of the house.

 

Jack let him go.  He needed time and space.  When he was ready, the Lads would help him forget for a little while.  Michael and Gavin had promised not to leave him alone, even for a second.  Jack calmly unhooked Ryan’s IV and set aside all the components for disposal later.  Then, with the heavy sigh of a person who wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, she sat in the chair across the room and picked up the top book from the sizable pile, settling in for the long haul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note: the next two chapters are... uhhhhhhhhhh... really fucking long? i could split them into two parts each, but for pacing purposes they really work better as a whole... so um... if you're in the future and chapters 24 and 25 are already there, please go use the bathroom, get a snack, take a nap... prepare yourselves...
> 
> If your question is: are we ever going to truly learn about ray's traumatic childhood? the answer is: yes? like chapter 26 or 27 at this point?  
> also I promised jeremy being extra? probably like ch 28?   
> if i get the pacing on this bitch right, then there should be at least 30 chapters? that's how much plot i have at the moment, but i can always come up with more bullshit and i don't have an ending yet lmao  
> stay tuned  
> next time: team better friends makes bad decisions


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATS UP FUCKS it's me, ya boi, here with the longest chapter yet - a cool 8k. And only a week after the last update?? What?????  
> Please get up, get a snack, use the bathroom, drink some water, stretch... all that good stuff.
> 
> warnings for recreational drug use  
> also mentions of implied mavinmegsay aka the good shit

Ryan’s Zentorno felt familiar to Ray as he drove back to the penthouse.  He hadn’t realized how far out of the city they’d gone.  The Zentorno was the only car he’d been allowed to drive in a non-emergency situation besides his own Adder, which had been parked in the garage at his apartment for months, untouched, and he’d certainly spent more time in the Zentorno these last three months than any other car, especially on the drive to Vegas.  Ryan’s jacket was in the space behind the seats, and Ray was sure there were a few scattered guns and explosives back there too.  It was still fairly early in the morning, at least by Ray’s standards, about 9:30, and he was in no hurry to get back to the penthouse.

 

He entered the garage at the penthouse just as Gavin was leaving.  He half-heartedly waved as Gavin pulled out of the garage on his motorcycle.  It was a long elevator up to the top floor, how had he lived here for this long and never noticed?  The door to the apartment was unlocked as usual, and Ray made sure it didn’t slam too loudly behind him.  Not quietly enough, evidently, because Geoff spotted him.

 

“Morning,” Geoff said, scooping bacon and eggs onto plates.  “Breakfast?”

 

“I guess,” Ray said, resigned, walking to the kitchen, taking a plate from Geoff, and sitting at the bar to eat it.

 

“How’d it go?” Geoff asked.  Ray shook his head, he didn’t want to talk about it.  One of the penthouse cats jumped onto the counter and Geoff shooed it away before it ate the breakfast.  “Are you excited about spending quality bonding time with Michael?”

 

“I dunno,” Ray responded, stabbing a piece of egg with no real passion behind it.  “He’s not terrible, I guess.”

 

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Geoff said, bending down closer to Ray as if he really was about to tell a secret, “I know you think I love Michael more than I love you–”

 

“Because you do,” Ray interjected.

 

“Daddy loves all his kids equally,” Geoff said sternly, standing up again.

 

“Please don’t ever call yourself Daddy again,” Ray said, monotone, and low key horrified.

 

“Ugh, did he call himself Daddy again?  This guy, gunning for father’s day presents again,” Michael’s voice came from behind him.  Ray looked around, Michael was fully dressed, jeans and leather jacket, and heading into the kitchen to grab a plate of breakfast.  “Jesus, Geoff, how many people are you expecting for breakfast?”

 

“Stream Team hasn’t eaten yet,” Geoff said, taking a plate for himself and heading to the couch.  He picked up a book from the coffee table before sitting down, and began reading while eating. 

 

“That’s on you, though,” Ray reminded him.

 

“Yeah, seriously, I thought it was a perfectly acceptable use of the living room at 5:30am,” Michael said.  The incident in question had happened just a few weeks ago, when Jeremy and Trevor had decided five thirty in the morning was a good time to film a music video to Wham!’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go in the living room while Matt filmed them, but instead woke up everyone in the penthouse, and got all three of them temporarily fired in the process.   They’d been re-hired that afternoon when Michael had one-upped them by recreating the scene from Risky Business where Tom Cruise dances in his underwear to Old Time Rock n Roll, filmed by Gavin, and Geoff had been forced to admit maybe he could get away with just giving the stream team a warning.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m the boss.  I do what I want,” Geoff said, planning to clock out of the conversation very quickly.  “Also,” he added as an afterthought, “my birthday is on father’s day, I think I’m entitled to presents.”

 

“I guess we’re picking up Geoff a birthday present while we’re out,” Michael said to Ray. 

 

“No more whiskey!” Geoff added.

 

“What the fuck else am I supposed to buy you?” Michael replied.

 

“Anything but alcohol,” Geoff said.

 

“Geoff the sober guy,” Michael said.  “Don’t get me wrong, I totally respect it, but what am I supposed to buy him?”

 

“He likes socks,” Ray said.

 

“I’ll ask Griffon,” Michael sighed, setting his phone on the counter so he could text with one hand and eat with the other.

 

“What’s the plan for today?” Ray asked.  Michael shrugged.  Ray nodded in agreement.  Sometimes that was the better plan.

 

“If the two of you could maybe at least _consider_ not getting arrested, that would be great,” Geoff suggested.  “With Jack and Ryan off the force, I’d have to send Lindsay and the B-team to get you.”

 

“They’d never take me alive,” Michael assured Geoff.

 

“And another thing, don’t kill Ray,” Geoff continued, sounding a lot like a father scolding his children.  “I don’t need another member of my crew sitting out for days on end.”

 

“Days on end?  Jesus Christ, you’re fucked up,” Michael said, looking back at Ray, who could feel his face heating up.  For so long he’d kept that information to himself, you get shot on one heist and suddenly everyone knows how squishy you are.

 

“Just… find a nice normal non-gang related activity to do, okay?” Geoff suggested.  Michael rolled his eyes.

 

“I’ve got a pink rocket launcher with your name on it,” Michael whispered to Ray.  Ray grinned.  “Hurry up, let’s go.”  Ray shoveled the rest of his breakfast into his mouth quickly and stood up to leave as Michael tossed both their plates in the sink.  “Bye, Dad!”

 

“Yeah, sure, I’m not allowed to call myself that, but _you_ …” Geoff grumbled.

 

“So what’s your story?” Ray asked, opening the passenger door of Michael’s chrome Adder and climbing into the seat.

 

“Story?” Michael asked, turning his key in the ignition.  Ray barely got his door shut before they were pulling out of the garage.

 

“Yeah, how come you’re a Ramsey boy?” Ray asked.  “Gav and I were orphans, I guess Jeremy got traded here from the Roosters, what’s your deal?”

 

“Got involved in the very tail end of the Pattillo crew when I was 15,” Michael said.  “Running packages, stuff like that, nothing important.  Was a terrible shot, cuz I couldn’t see worth a damn, until someone figured out I needed glasses.  Took over after the asshole that took over for Jack was assassinated.  Ran that piece of shit crew for three years until the fucking Vagabond salted and burned them.  Now I’m here.  No tragic backstory or anything.  My parents still love me.  Probably wish I wasn’t on the news so much, but they were at my wedding.  You?”

 

“Dad was terrible, he finally left us, and my mom tried, but she OD’d when I was 12,” Ray summarized.  “Geoff took me in and gave me a job.”

 

“I have a hard time believing that Geoff gave you a gun at 12,” Michael said.

 

“I was paraphrasing,” Ray shrugged.  “You want the whole story in all the horny details?”

 

“Horny details?” Michael asked, appalled.

 

“Do you want them or not?”

 

“No,” Michael shook his head.

 

“Clear something up for me,” Ray changed the subject.

 

“Hit me.”

 

“You and Gavin.  Yea?  Nay?  Did it ever happen?” Ray asked.  Michael snorted.  “Okay then.”

 

“Yes, it happened,” Michael admitted, blushing furiously.  “It has happened, it still happens… It was Lindsay’s idea!  I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”  Ray was taken aback, but more than understood he didn’t want that much insight into whatever Michael, Gavin, Lindsay, and Meg all got up to behind closed doors.  “Same question, back to you.”

 

“Yea,” Ray agreed.  “I was 14, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.  Geoff really wanted it to work out.  It didn’t.”

 

“Irreconcilable differences?” Michael joked.

 

“Something like that,” Ray laughed.

 

“I’ll be up front, I’m still coming to grips with the fact that Ryan is the Vagabond,” Michael said.

 

“He might not be, much longer,” Ray said.

 

“What?” Michael asked, frowning.

 

“If things… change.  He might retire.”

 

“He’s… he can’t just _retire_ ,” Michael protested.  “We need him.  He’s the best.  No one can run a torture and interrogate job like he can.”

 

“It’s complicated,” Ray began to explain.  “It’s like he has two people living in his head…  There’s Ryan the IT Guy, he’s pretty normal most of the time.  The Vagabond was a persona created by his immortality.”

 

“Right, because he went on a bender and became a mass murdering fuckstick,” Michael said, not getting.  Ray shook his head.

 

“No, Ryan never wanted that.  It’s….  You can have him explain it, I’m sure I’m not saying it right,” Ray said.  “Where are we headed?”

 

“North…west?” Michael guessed, looking at the GPS on his dash.  Ray suddenly remembered Matt admitting he screwed with Michael’s waypoints sometimes and took closer notice of where the waypoint was.  “Jeremy and I found this place where you can get a nice vantage point on the Screw Attack base.”

 

“We’re so bored, we’re messing with Screw Attack now?” Ray sighed, turning his head to watch the scenery fly by the window.

 

“We’re still in the truce phase with Funhaus, and despite the rising aggression towards the Roosters, we’re still in a technical alliance with them,” Michael said.  “It was this or fuck with cops.”

 

“We could just drive to the top of Chiliad and see what happens,” Ray suggested.

 

“Maybe after,” Michael agreed.

 

“Unless the double-0-mog(ar) doesn’t have the horsepower,” Ray teased.

 

“You’ve never seen this much horsepower, baby,” Michael said, putting the gas pedal down even harder and swerving around traffic.

 

“I’m pretty sure even a stock Adder can make it up there,” Ray said.  “I think mine is stock.”

 

“You gotta pimp that shit out, Ray!” Michael insisted.  Ray shrugged.  “Why not?”

 

“I stole it,” Ray admitted.

 

“You _stole_ an Adder?” Michael asked, impressed.

 

“Borrowed?  And still haven’t returned after four years?” Ray amended.  “Don’t need them asking questions at the mod shop.”

 

“Take it to Lamar.  He never asks questions,” Michael suggested.  “He’ll even redo the plates for you if you want.”  Ray nodded, taking in this information.  He’d never thought of taking it to Lamar.  Of course, he rarely thought about his car in general.  “Why don’t you ever drive, then?  An Adder’s a sweet-ass ride.”

 

“I don’t have a license, I guess?” Ray shrugged.  “Mostly it sits in my garage not getting vandalized.”

 

“Vandalized?” Michael repeated with a laugh.  “You mean like you and Gavin covering this car in tin foil?”

 

“That was a _prank_ ,” Ray said.  “And it backfired on us.  You liked it so much you got the car redone in chrome!”

 

“Fuck yeah,” Michael grinned.  “You gonna trick yours out with some tin foil?”

 

“Maybe.  Just tape tin foil onto the side after it gets keyed.  Save the money on a respray.  It totally wouldn’t be completely noticeable.”

 

“Who keyed your car?” Michael asked, giggling.

 

“Not my Adder, but a car I’d jacked… just like a fuckin cheap ass Cabrio or whatever…” Ray said, waving it off.  “This fuckin… chick I was dating…  Was not a fan of my dating history.”

 

“Oh,” Michael said, shutting up immediately.  There was an awkward pause.

 

“So.  What, uh, what’s Gavin up to today?  Why’d he ditch us?” Ray asked.

 

“I literally have no fucking clue,” Michael replied.  Ray nodded.

 

“I don’t care.  It’s better not being third wheel for you two,” Ray said.  Michael snorted.

 

“Fuck Gavin, he’s a piece of shit.  You and me, we’re the new shit,” Michael said.

 

“Yeah, until Gavin comes running in with his ‘but micoo’,” Ray teased.  “Mavin’s a classic.  I get it.  I’ve got R&R.  Way better.”

 

“R&R?” Michael asked.

 

“The R&R Connection.  That’s me and Ryan,” Ray said.

 

“Yeah?  How about us?  Team Better Friends,” Michael said.

 

“Alright, we’ll see,” Ray said.  “This better be one hell of a date.”

 

“No homo,” Michael said.

 

“Fuck that, all homo,” Ray said.  Michael laughed and agreed.

 

“One of us is going to have to break the news to Lindsay,” Michael joked.

 

“Oh, no problem,” Ray laughed.  “She’ll probably be cool with it as long as she can watch.”

 

“It’s like you know her!” Michael joked, laughing.  Ray laughed too.

 

“I have met her once or twice,” Ray said.  It was hard to believe they’d spent years hating each other.  Michael put the car into park on the side of the road.  In front of them, just forest.

 

“Ready to go for a walk?” Michael asked.  Ray groaned.

 

“You’re in cahoots with Jack to kill me, aren’t you?” Ray complained.  Michael laughed.

 

“It’s about 100 feet past the tree line.  I think you’ll live,” Michael said.  He popped the trunk and they both got out.  Ray shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.  Michael pulled guns out of the trunk and tossed one to Ray, who wasn’t ready for it and almost missed it, then fumbled it, and then started panicking as he realized he was fumbling a real live gun, and then it fell to the ground.  After that whole misadventure, Ray cleared his throat and picked it up off the ground.  Michael raised his eyebrows skeptically and Ray coughed, trying to play off the whole thing.

 

“Is this… uh… Is this Jeremy’s?” Ray asked, noting the sniper rifle he was holding was pink, like his and Jeremy’s.

 

“No, dumbass, it’s yours,” Michael said.

 

“But I lost mine,” Ray said, starting to look it over.

 

“Yeah, and I went and got it for you.  It’s been like a month and a half and you haven’t even bothered asking around,” Michael said.  Ray examined what was, indeed, his own gun, and remembered the specific scratches to the paint job, like when Gavin had scraped a tiny three pointed crown into the butt with his house key one time before Ray could stop him.  There it was, in all its misshapen glory, after all these years.

 

“Huh,” Ray finally said with a shrug, slinging it across his back.  “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Michael said, slamming a clip into his own rifle and then slamming the trunk shut.  “Let’s go.” 

 

The hike was very short through the woods.  Michael was right, they certainly had a decent vantage point on Screw Attack’s base… if anyone was actually even there.

 

“See anybody?” Michael asked as Ray squinted through his scope.

 

“Not really,” Ray said.  Michael pulled binoculars out of nowhere and scanned the area as well.

 

“Well, I see Chad,” Michael said.  “Window, upstairs, third from the right.”  Shoutout to Chad James.

 

“And he’s the most likeable one,” Ray said, adjusting so he was looking in the right place.

 

“I don’t see anyone else,” Michael said.  “Goddammit.”  Ray pulled the trigger on his rifle, and a bullet flew through the air and shattered the window of the room Chad was sitting in, but missed Chad by a mile.  Chad jumped, looking at the shattered window.  Ray snickered and fired another shot, also purposefully missing Chad, but causing property damage.

 

“Knock it off!” Chad screamed from the window.  Michael laughed harder than ever.

 

“Break something else,” Michael told Ray.  Ray shattered a few more windows.  Chad had disappeared, so Ray took some more potshots at anything that looked expensive and easy to break, car windows, a small propane tank next to a grill went up in a tiny explosion.

 

“Oh, fuck, he’s on the roof,” Ray said.  “With a gun.”

 

“So take him out if you want to,” Michael said.  “He’ll come back.”  Chad’s first bullet found the bushes about 25 feet from them.  The second went long, hitting behind them.  Ray aimed very precisely and pulled his trigger again, barely skimming Chad’s trigger hand, but enough to stop him trying to snipe them.  Ray couldn’t hear him, but saw him shout _fuck_ and drop his gun.

 

“Got him,” Ray said, chuckling.

 

“Yeah!  And tell your friends Fake AH was here!” Michael screamed.  He practically giggled and pulled Ray back into the trees with him, towards the car.  It was the most ridiculous thing Ray had ever done, he thought, but they both ran as fast as they could back to the car and collapsed into their seats, still laughing.  “Fuck, that was funny.”

 

“Yeah,” Ray agreed, tossing his gun into the space behind the front seats.  Michael shimmied out of his jacket, hot, but Ray reached for the AC and turned it on full blast as soon as Michael started the car.

 

“To the top of Chiliad?” Michael asked.  Ray nodded. 

 

Ray watched the scenery fly by as Michael made the treacherous trip to the top.  Ray wondered how Ryan was doing, but after glancing at the clock, realized he was definitely not awake yet.  Jack had assured him it would take a very long time, mostly because she’d used enough potassium chloride to, in Jack’s words, kill him _very, very dead_.  Apparently death was, in fact, not a binary state, and there were different levels to the amount of dead you could be.

 

“Dude, stop thinking, I hate that face,” Michael said as he parked near the observation station.  “What are you even thinking about?”

 

“Stuff,” Ray said vaguely.

 

“Knock it off,” Michael said.  “C’mon.”  He got out of the car and Ray followed him.  They walked over to the edge of the mountain, and Michael kept gesturing Ray to follow him, like he expected Ray to get lost or something.  Finally they stopped.  Michael sat down on the edge of the wooden ramp/bridge thing that just dropped off into cliff face.  Ray sat down next to him.  Their legs dangled off the edge over the drastic drop.

 

“Think you’d die from falling off this?” Ray asked.

 

“I wouldn’t,” Michael said.  “Would you?”

 

“Maybe,” Ray sighed.  “Let’s not find out.”  Michael pulled out a ziploc bag from inside his jacket that he’d put back on before they’d left the car.  Ray had no idea what Michael was doing until Michael looked up and silently offered it to him.  Ray shook his head.

 

“Really?” Michael asked.  “Ray, the 420 guy, doesn’t want to smoke?”

 

“I… don’t… actually,” Ray said.  Michael laughed, exhaling smoke away from Ray.  “Well, I never have.”

 

“Shit,” Michael said, surprised.  “More for me then.”  They sat there for a few minutes, Michael smoking his bowl, and Ray just staring into space, thinking about stuff.  “Dude.”

 

“Yeah?” Ray asked, snapping back to reality.

 

“You’re a cool guy, Ray,” Michael said.

 

“Yeah?” Ray asked, surprised by this statement.

 

“I dunno, Gavin just fucking idolizes you, and I didn’t see it,” Michael said.  “But you’re okay.  And you’re good at your job.”

 

“Jesus Christ, how high are you?” Ray laughed.

 

“No, this is serious,” Michael said, setting down his pipe and his lighter and turning to face Ray more.  “Geoff keeps you up on the roof because he’s scared you’ll get hurt.  You deserve to be down with us.  We’ll hook you up with a minigun and some body armor, some fucking mithril lord of the rings shit…”

 

“And who would do my job?” Ray asked.  Michael shrugged wildly.

 

“Gavin’s okay.  Jeremy, maybe,” Michael said.  “He’s not a bad shot.”

 

“No, he isn’t a bad shot,” Ray agreed.  “He’s actually really good.  Whoever taught him must be better than me.”

 

“No one over at the fucking Roosters is better than you at anything,” Michael said.  “They’re all a bunch of losers.”

 

“I thought that was Funhaus.”

 

“No, Funhaus are a bunch of bitch losers, there’s a difference,” Michael explained.

 

“Oh, okay,” Ray said.  Michael took another quick blaze from his pipe (That’s not the right word.  Ray didn’t know the right word, but he was sure it wasn’t blaze.) and offered it to Ray again, in case he’d changed his mind.  “Maybe later.”

 

“Alright, rain check,” Michael agreed.  “No pressure, it’s cool, just trying to be friendly.”

 

“Thanks.”  Michael tucked his shit back in his jacket and stared out at the horizon.

 

“So, we take the car, and drive it straight down this side of the mountain.  Where do we end up?” Michael asked.

 

“Like right here?  Underneath us?” Ray asked.  Michael nodded.  “The… fuckin… lumber yard?”

 

“Let’s do it,” Michael said.

 

“That’s a bad idea,” Ray told him.

 

“Yeah,” Michael agreed.  “But it’ll be fun.”

 

“You’re gonna wreck your car,” Ray said.

 

“Worth it,” Michael said, getting up and offering a hand to Ray.

 

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Ray said, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

 

“Alright, pussy, you want to go down the ‘safe’ way,” Michael said, making air quotes around safe, and leading the way back to the car.

 

“I don’t want to die today,” Ray said, hurrying after him.  “Should you be driving at all?”

 

“I’m fine to drive,” Michael told him.

 

“Isn’t that, like, against the law?” Ray asked.  Michael stopped walking to stare at him.

 

“Against the law??” Michael asked, incredulous.  “Ray, what do you do for a living?”

 

“I mean, okay, but–” Ray began.

 

“Next you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t let Gavin fly helicopters when he’s drunk,” Michael rolled his eyes.

 

“Well… you shouldn’t,” Ray said.  Michael scoffed.  “I mean, you shouldn’t let him fly helicopters when he’s sober either…”

 

“Just to clarify, I’m completely joking,” Michael said, handing his keys to Ray.  “You’re gonna drive.”

 

“Me?  Drive… the double-0-mogar??” Ray asked.

 

“What the hell.  I’m gonna have to get it fixed anyway,” Michael shrugged.  “We’ll take it down the mountain and if it’s not dead yet, and we survived, drive it to the LS Customs in Vinewood.  We can walk to my place from there.”

 

“You… wait….  Are you for real?” Ray asked, still looking at the keys in his hand.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I don’t have a license,” Ray reminded him.

 

“I’ve seen you drive before, I think you’re more than qualified to navigate a two million dollar vehicle down the side of a cliff face,” Michael said, “or did I _not_ tell you about the time I called a cab, only for the dude to drive off a cliff into the water and just swim away?”  Ray agreed and they got back in the car.  Ray started the engine, testing the controls.  It seemed to drive exactly like his own.  Incredible.

 

“And you seriously want me to just drive down the side of a mountain?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah, dude, don’t be a pussy,” Michael said.  Ray drove nervously to the edge, looking out over the horizon.

 

“We’re gonna die,” Ray said as the car slowly rolled forward.

 

“And it’s gonna be awesome,” Michael grinned. 

 

The car gained momentum on the wide flat part of the mountain before the makeshift road narrowed significantly, creating a very narrow canyon for Ray to try to navigate.  Michael was yelling about how he was having a great time and something about Gavin being too scared to do it.  The car went up over a rock and flew into the air like it was a stunt ramp, crashing to the ground on the other side, still on the wheels somehow.  Ray narrowly managed to avoid slamming into the bridge that went under the train tracks and stood on the brakes, pulling a hard right until they practically skidded to a stop a few feet from crashing into the lumber yard.

 

“Let’s do that _again_ ,” Michael grinned.  Ray laughed.

 

“That was pretty terrifying,” Ray admitted.

 

“Terrifyingly awesome,” Michael corrected.

 

“No, I think terrifying covers it,” Ray said.

 

“Terrifying but awesome!”

 

“Just terrifying.”  Michael laughed.

 

“God, Gavin is right, you do need to lighten up,” he said.

 

“Gavin said I need to lighten up?” Ray asked with a frown, putting the car back in gear and heading back towards Vinewood.

 

“Everyone says you need to lighten up,” Michael clarified.

 

“I am literally the least serious person I have ever met,” Ray said, confused.  “You can ask anyone, I haven’t been serious a day in my life, not one time.  Ever.”

 

“You get real scared whenever you might get hurt.  Or dead,” Michael pointed out.  “Very weird quality for an immortal.”

 

“And I think you would have noticed how long it took for my fucking shoulder to heal after it got ripped apart,” Ray snapped.  “I’d love to be as carefree about shit as you are, but not all of us can do a complete respawn in 20 minutes.”

 

“It’s 15 now,” Michael said.

 

“Whatever.”

 

“So what, your shoulder got fucked up.  You’re fine now!” Michael insisted.  “Live a little!  This is exactly why I wanted to replace you with Jeremy.  You’re a goddamn stick in the mud.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “Getting kicked out of the Lads, boy is there egg on my face.”  Michael rolled his eyes.  “Suggestion: we kick Gavin out of the lads instead.”

 

“I’m intrigued.  Continue,” Michael said.

 

“He sucks,” Ray said.

 

“Agreed,” Michael said.

 

“That’s all, really.”

 

“Alright, he’s gone,” Michael agreed.  “As the leader of the lads, I can kick out whoever I want with extreme prejudice.”

 

“Oh, you’re the leader of the lads now?” Ray asked.  Michael nodded.  “That’s interesting, coming from the guy who kept insisting he was a gent until two months ago.”

 

“Being a gent is boring, okay?  I learned my lesson,” Michael said.  “Lads for life.”  He held up a fist for Ray to pound, which Ray did.  “God, are we there yet?”

 

“Uh, almost,” Ray said, glancing at the GPS.

 

“We can just park the car in my garage, I’ll take it over to the shop later,” Michael said.  “Maybe I can convince Mors Mutual they should cover the damage.”

 

“Alrighty,” Ray agreed.  He took the left turn to drive from Del Perro across Rockford Hills over to Vinewood.  “So you live in Vinewood too?”

 

“Yeah, we’ve had a place in Vinewood for a little while now,” Michael said.  “Don’t use it much, but it’s somewhere to go.”

 

“Yeah,” Ray agreed.  “That’s how it is with my apartment.”

 

“Where’s that?”

 

“Little Seoul.”

 

“Ohh,” Michael said, making a face.

 

“I know, it’s crap.  I wanted a hovel, trust me, I did it on purpose,” Ray said.  “Geoff would have bought me the best apartment money could buy but I wouldn’t let him.”

 

“Geoff really loves you.  And Gavin,” Michael said.

 

“We’re his kids,” Ray shrugged.  Michael sighed.  “Are you… jealous?”  Michael was getting pink again.  “Michael Jones, you’re jealous!”

 

“Am not,” Michael mumbled.

 

“Mr. My Parents Still Love Me is jealous,” Ray teased.

 

“Fuck off,” Michael said, folding his arms and staring out the window.

 

“Mr. I Don’t Need To Suck Geoff Off For Money,” Ray continued.  “Mr. You’re Not My Mom Jack.  Mr. It Was Lindsay’s Idea.”

 

“Hey, don’t go spreading that shit around,” Michael said, instantly serious, turning back to Ray.  “Like… no one is supposed to know.  I’m pretty sure even Ryan doesn’t know and Meg tells him everything.”

 

“Whatever,” Ray agreed.  “Why’d you tell me then?”

 

“I don’t know,” Michael said.  “Doesn’t matter for now.  Lindsay won’t be home tonight.”

 

“Why not?” Ray asked.

 

“Because you’re staying the night, silly,” Michael said as if it was obvious.

 

“I am?”

 

“Duh.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Ray had never been to Michael’s apartment.  Didn’t really know he and Lindsay had their own apartment.  Maybe everyone had their own apartments.  Gavin was often over at Meg’s.  Ray practically lived at Ryan’s when the both of them weren’t in Ray’s room at the penthouse.  Ray sometimes wondered why he kept his own apartment and why Ryan didn’t give up his bedroom in the penthouse so that Matt and Trevor didn’t have to share.  Not that they seemed to mind.  There was something weird going on with the two of them and Jeremy, but Ray didn’t care enough to find out what it was.

 

“Should we stop and pick up some takeout?” Ray asked as they entered Vinewood.

 

“Oh yeah.  I didn’t even think about lunch,” Michael said.  “McDonalds?”  Ray agreed.

 

It wasn’t long before Ray pulled the scratched and beat up Adder into the garage at Michael’s apartment.  Vinewood didn’t have the same high rise apartment buildings that they had downtown, but Michael’s apartment was on the third floor of his building.  It wasn’t as extravagant as the penthouse by a long shot.  It was clear just upon entering that Gavin spent a fair amount of time there.  There were three pairs of gold sunglasses of varying quality and style littered haphazardly on the coffee table between empty cans of red bull, xbox controllers, wiimotes, and even playstation controllers.  A mix-matched pair of converse was next to the door.

 

“You can take your shoes off if you want to,” Michael said, walking straight into the living room without removing his own.  Ray declined. 

 

Michael started cleaning up the mess on the coffee table, throwing the cans away, organizing the controllers, and picking up the sunglasses with a heavy eye roll and taking them into the bedroom.  Ray took a seat on the couch, still taking in the living room, the huge TV, the view of the street out the window.  He placed the McDonalds bag on the coffee table and Michael came running back from the hall and dove onto the couch.

 

“Hi,” Michael said, righting himself into a sitting position and snagging a burger.  “Wanna play Portal 2?”

 

“Sure,” Ray agreed.

 

“Gavin sucks so bad,” Michael said.  “Doesn’t have the patience.”

 

“Or the brain power,” Ray joked.

 

“Or the sobriety,” Michael continued.  “Also I kept fucking him up on purpose because it’s fuckin funny.”  Ray laughed. 

 

They fooled around for a few hours in Portal 2.  Michael still needed the co-op achievements, and Ray admitted he’d gotten them by himself in the early hours of the morning by syncing a second controller and playing both, because no one had been awake and he’d really wanted the achievements then and there.

 

“I would have helped out,” Michael said.

 

“It wasn’t that hard,” Ray shrugged.

 

**

 

Both of them jumped as the door slammed open behind them.  Michael jumped to his feet, producing a gun from nowhere, ready to protect himself (and more importantly, Ray) from the intruder.  Ray had a more rational response and merely turned his head to look.  It was Jeremy, and he had Charlie with him.

 

“Sorry about the wall,” Jeremy said, closing the door behind them.  Then he looked over at the pair of them on the couch, where Michael was barely relaxing his weapon.  “Dude, chill out, it’s me.  Who the fuck were you expecting?”

 

“Not you, honestly,” Michael said, putting his gun away.  “Why are you here?”

 

“Something came up, Geoff’s sending me out with Trevor.  Can you guys watch the dog?” Jeremy asked.

 

“What happened?  Anything I need to do?” Michael asked, coming around the couch to get closer to Jeremy.  Ray followed him and Charlie tugged her leash out of Jeremy’s grip and sprinted into Ray. 

 

“Nah, Trevor and I can handle it, it’s nothing major,” Jeremy said.  “A couple of hours of surveillance and Geoff will decide whether I take the shot.”

 

“Oh, right, so he finally gets another surveil and snipe job and I _don’t_ get it,” Ray rolled his eyes, trying to sound more sarcastic than genuinely hurt.

 

“Geoff said everyone had the weekend off except me and the B-team,” Jeremy said.  “Sorry, dude.  Do you want to go?  I can call Geoff and–”

 

“No, you take it,” Ray said.  “I’ll live.”

 

“Thanks, dude, I really need the money,” Jeremy said.  “So you’re okay if I leave Charlie here?”

 

“Of course.  She’s my dog, you think I don’t know how to take care of her?” Ray asked.  “I can have my dog here, right?” he added to Michael.  Michael shrugged.

 

“I guess so?” Michael replied.

 

“Cool.  I’ll call you when I’m done, if you want me to pick her back up,” Jeremy said, then turned around and fled the apartment.  Ray sighed heavily, returning to the couch.  Charlie hopped into his lap.

 

“We’ll just have to have a really good time, I guess,” Michael said.  Ray looked up at him and smiled.  “I’ll order pizza.”

 

“I dunno why I believed anyone when they kept saying Jeremy isn’t replacing me,” Ray sighed as Michael headed to the kitchen to find the takeout menus.

 

“Jeremy isn’t replacing you,” Michael said.  “You’re on temporary leave.  We all are.”

 

“I’d rather be working than not working,” Ray said.  “He doesn’t want me on the job.  He’s never wanted me on the job.”

 

“So Geoff cares about you,” Michael said.  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”  He tossed the takeout menu at Ray, and Ray stared at it.

 

“Sometimes,” Ray said, staring down at the menu and not taking in a word of it.

 

“See anything you want?” Michael asked.

 

“I want to know how Ryan’s doing,” Ray said, his right leg jiggling out of control.  Charlie put her head in Ray’s lap.  He reached down to pet her.

 

“So call Jack,” Michael said.  “He could be awake by now.”

 

“We don’t know how long it will be,” Ray said.  “Jack said it could be days.”

 

“And it also could not be days,” Michael said.  “Call her.  I’ll order pizza.”

 

“Anything with mushrooms,” Ray said, throwing the menu back at Michael and reaching for his phone.

 

Jack didn’t have any helpful news.  Ryan was still out, going into hour 13.  She assured Ray that that was as they’d expected, just because of the sheer overcompensation of death juice she’d given him.  Jack promised to call with any updates, hopefully sometime the next morning.

 

Ray set his phone on the coffee table and looked over at Michael.

 

“You got any more of that weed?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah?  You wanna smoke?” Michael asked.  Ray nodded.

 

“Well.  Maybe.  Let’s leave it open as an option,” Ray said.

 

“We’ve got lots of options.  We can use my pipe, I can roll some joints, there’s a bong in the other room, I might be able to make brownies, and I can always hold you down and blow smoke directly into your lungs,” Michael said.  “It doesn’t work that great, it’s more of an excuse for people to make out.”

 

“I don’t want to make out with you, but thanks for the offer,” Ray replied smoothly.  Michael snorted.

 

“I don’t want to make out with you either, dude, don’t worry about it,” Michael said.  “I guess we could always hotbox a car, too.”

 

“That is a lot of options, thank you,” Ray said.  “I’m not a baby, I think I can handle it.”

 

Ray wasn’t thinking, really.  He certainly wasn’t thinking about Ryan and how worried he was – they all were – about how he’d turn out.  Ray wasn’t thinking about the joke he’d made about doing drugs (if weed counted as a drug) and staying up all night playing Nintendo.  Ray was only focused on how anxious he suddenly felt.

 

Ray watched as Michael briefly explained the mechanics of what he was expected to do.  It was a lot more complicated than Ray had imagined, but he attempted it anyway, failing inexplicably until Michael pointed out the most important instruction.

 

“You have to breathe in through your mouth, idiot,” Michael advised, lighting the bowl again.  Ray hadn’t even noticed he hadn’t been doing that, and took a harsh inhale.  Thankfully Michael was holding onto the bowl, because Ray fell backwards into the couch and started coughing.  Michael laughed.

 

“Oh my god, it tastes like cancer,” Ray wheezed.

 

“Do you want some water?” Michael asked, setting the bowl on the glass coffee table to head into the kitchen.  Ray nodded, still coughing.  Michael came back with a bottle of Aquafina for Ray and a red bull for himself.  Ray quickly downed the entire bottle, but his throat still burned.

 

“Do you have another one of these?” Ray asked.

 

“Uh, no, but I can fill that one back up from the sink,” Michael said.

 

“Yes, I would like another one, please,” Ray said, handing the bottle back to Michael.  Michael took it to the kitchen to fill it back up.

 

“Do you want to try smoking again or are we done with that?” Michael asked.

 

“Uh…” Ray said, looking at the piece on the coffee table.  “Yeah, sure, if you have more water.”

 

“I have unlimited water,” Michael assured him, coming back to the living room and handing him the full water bottle.

 

“You had another one?!” Ray exclaimed happily, taking the bottle.  Michael stared at him.

 

“I told you, I just filled it back up,” Michael said.  “Jesus, are you drunk, too?”

 

“No, I don’t drink,” Ray said, sipping the water this time.  Michael took another hit or two while he waited for Ray to be done with his water, then handed the stuff to him.  Ray fumbled with the lighter but got the job done, still coughing this time, but not as much.  “Does it ever stop tasting like cancer?”

 

“Yeah, stop inhaling so hard you get the fucking fire in your throat,” Michael advised.  Ray tried to take this advice.  “I think you’ve probably had enough for your first time,” Michael said after a few minutes of Ray not doing a terrible job at smoking, “at least for now.”

 

“I like the smell,” Ray admitted.

 

“Yeah?  It’s fucking awful,” Michael said, taking one last toke and setting the almost empty bowl on the coffee table.

 

“Reminds me of home, I guess,” Ray said.  “My mom used to smoke sometimes.”

 

“Yeah?  Not anymore, though?” Michael asked.

 

“Well, maybe, but it’s hard to keep track of what she’s doing these days, since she’s been dead for almost 10 years,” Ray shot back.  Michael looked absolutely mortified.

 

“And I knew that, too.  Oh my God, Ray, I’m so sorry,” Michael said.  Ray waved it off.

 

“It’s fine, it’s just… this whole thing with Ryan is really bringing back this deep seated fear I have of losing the people I care about,” Ray said.  Michael nodded.  “It would be the universe’s newest way of fucking me over, and it really likes to do that.”

 

“Ryan’s gonna be just fine,” Michael told him.  He handed Ray a Wiimote.

 

“What’s this for?” Ray asked.

 

“Mario Kart, dude.  It might just be a fair fight if you get a little more fucked up,” Michael said.

 

“Oh, it’s on,” Ray said.

 

To be fair to both Ray and Michael, they were both very good under normal circumstances.  Jeremy and Ryan were the ones that were terrible out of the usual suspects.  Ray didn’t seem to be feeling many effects, but he was a lot less anxious about Ryan and far chattier than usual.

 

After pizza and approximately a grand prix and a half, the door opened again.  Neither of them jumped up, too focused on the game.  It was very obvious who it was almost immediately as the British voice was not trying to be very quiet.

 

“California Girls, we’re undeniable,” Gavin sang, slurring a little, obviously drunk, “fine, fresh – what is it?”

 

“Fierce,” Lindsay replied.  “We got it on lock.”

 

“West Coast represent, now put your hands up,” Ray continued.  Gavin and Lindsay did the whoa-oh-oh’s together, giggling.

 

“Excellent,” Gavin agreed, not taking notice of Ray’s presence, even though he’d been the one to speak.  “Micoo!  Michael, my boi, we’re home!”

 

“You weren’t supposed to be home tonight,” Michael replied, not looking over.  “You don’t live here, remember?  Lindsay was supposed to be staying at your place.”  Gavin looked around dramatically.

 

“Oh,” he said, kicking off his shoes.  “Oh, X-Ray’s here!  X-Ray!  How do you like Michael now?  Are you friends yet?  Are you best friends yet?  Have you replaced me yet?”

 

“Yeah, we kicked you out of the Lads,” Ray replied, trying to keep his kart on the course.

 

“What – what?!?” Gavin exclaimed.  “I’m the king of the lads, you can’t just kick me out – Michael!”

 

“Yeah, sorry, it just happened,” Michael said, not sorry at all.

 

“Where’s my water?” Lindsay asked, standing up from sticking her head in the fridge.

 

“Ray drank it,” Michael said.  “Use a cup.”  Lindsay could be heard filling a cup with water, then she came into the living room and sat down on the edge of the couch next to Ray.

 

“Should I distract him?” Lindsay asked, petting the dog that was fully in Ray’s lap at this point and mostly asleep.

 

“Yeah, go ahead, but I don’t think it’ll change much,” Ray said.  “He’s already pretty terrible.”  Michael laughed.

 

“Why couldn’t you assholes take that job for Jeremy?” Michael asked them both as Gavin tripped his way into the living area as well.

 

“What job?” Gavin asked.  “I would’ve taken a job.  What was the job?”  He wormed his way between Michael and Ray to take a seat on the couch.

 

“Something about surveil and snipe,” Ray said, still a little angry about it.

 

“There’s no jobs like that on the roster,” Lindsay replied.  “If there was, Ray would be the first to know about it.  We’re not giving Jeremy solo jobs yet.”

 

“He and Trevor went together,” Michael told her.  Lindsay cracked up.  “What’s so funny?”

 

“Jeremy lied to you,” Lindsay laughed.

 

“Oh?”

 

“He and Trevor probably went out together,” Lindsay said.  “Like on a date.”  Realization dawned on Michael and Ray’s faces so slowly that Lindsay started laughing again.  “You two are slow as fuck.”

 

“You didn’t know about Lil J and Treycs?” Gavin asked the other two.  Michael shook his head.  “You poor things.”

 

“Hold on, so Jeremy and Trevor are the ones fucking?” Ray asked.  “What about Matt Bragg?”

 

“Dunno,” Lindsay said.  “Maybe all three of them are fucking?  It’s not the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard?”

 

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Ray said immediately, trying to push that image out of his brain before it started affecting his driving.

 

“Oh, is three dudes fucking too gay for you?” Michael laughed.  “We did it, boys, we broke him.”

 

“No, it’s the three specific dudes,” Ray said.  “Just because I’m gay – bi, actually, fuck you – just because I’m into guys doesn’t mean I’m into _all of them_.”

 

“Which kind are you into?” Lindsay asked.

 

“Specifically, at the moment, my boyfriend,” Ray said, getting ass blasted by a blue shell.  “Fuck!  Goddamn it, Michael!”  Michael sped past him to take the lead for a moment while Ray regained his composure.

 

“Ryan’s such a dad, though,” Lindsay continued as though there had been no interruption and also as though she’d been burning to ask Ray about this since their relationship had become public.

 

“Your point?” Ray asked.

 

“Do you call him Daddy?” Lindsay managed to get out without giggling.  Ray sighed heavily, having been expecting it.  Gavin laughed so hard he fell over into Michael, making Michael drive off the course, and giving Ray back the lead.

 

“No, I do not call him, or anyone, Daddy.  Nor have I ever.  Nor will I ever,” Ray said.  “At least that you’ll ever know about.”

 

“C’mon, Ray, we’re friends now,” Lindsay pouted.

 

“We’re not that good friends,” Ray shook his head, narrowly taking the final win, and setting down his controller.

 

“I’m gonna side with Ray on this one, I don’t want to have any more information than I already have,” Michael said.  “I think the two of you should go wind down and maybe sleep sometime tonight.”  Gavin pouted.

 

“But Michael, it’s only–” Gavin pulled his phone out of his pocket and squinted at the time, unable to read it, before giving up and putting it back away.  “It’s not that late!”

 

“It’s almost 1 in the morning, and you’re fucking wasted,” Michael laughed, pushing Gavin off him.  “You can unwind in the bedroom, or I can call Meg to come pick you up.”  Gavin pouted some more but stumbled his way into the hall.  Lindsay went after him, presumably to keep him from killing himself.  Charlie hopped off the couch and started following them, but then apparently realized neither of those idiots were her fathers, so she trotted back to the couch and laid back down at Ray’s feet.  “Guess I’m sleeping on the couch.”

 

“Are they really – never mind, I don’t want to know,” Ray stopped halfway through asking about Lindsay and Gavin’s sleeping arrangements.

 

“You can have the guest bedroom,” Michael said.  “I already made it up for you.  Ryan brought your suitcase over yesterday.”

 

“How thoughtful of him,” Ray frowned, not meaning it.  In fact, he was becoming more and more suspicious as time dragged on.  Ryan and Michael had obviously made some kind of pact that neither of them had bothered to tell him about.

 

“Well, since you’ll be staying here until–” Michael began, but Ray stopped him at that point.

 

“Who said I was staying here?” Ray asked.  “Why do you keep saying that like you invited me over for an extended sleepover?  We’re not 15.”

 

“Ryan said you were staying here until he was public again,” Michael said as if it was obvious.  Ray was not happy about this turn of events.  “Judging from your face, I’d say he didn’t run that by you.”

 

“He did not,” Ray replied.

 

“I’m sorry,” Michael said.  “I tried to get us the place for ourselves so you’d be more comfortable…  Ryan only wanted what’s best for you.  He’s so freaked out he’ll hurt you without meaning to…”

 

“And I can’t handle him myself?” Ray asked.  “I need _your_ protection?”

 

“…no…?” Michael said slowly, trying to be sure he’d gotten the right answer.  “You said yourself you have the slowest heal rate of any of us.  No one wants anything bad to happen to you.  I only agreed to shut Ryan up.  I don’t think he’ll be any different when he comes back.  For all the crap the two of you talk about how he’ll be better or worse, I’m pretty sure he’ll just be the same fucking idiot who took 16 shots at the hole-in-one into that dragon’s mouth at mini golf.”

 

“I still can’t believe we didn’t make him take all 16 strokes on his score,” Ray said.

 

“They were obviously mulligans,” Lindsay chimed in as she walked back passed them to get some more water from the sink.

 

“Don’t get me started on how bad _you_ were,” Michael threw at her.  Lindsay just smiled to herself.  “She knows I love her, there’s nothing I can do.”  Ray laughed.  “Is Jeremy coming back to pick up your dog?”

 

“Probably not,” Ray said.  “She’s my dog, I can take care of her.  I know Ryan thinks I’m incapable, but I did agree to be equal partner in raising this doggo.”

 

“Alright, because if she shits on my carpet, you have to clean it up,” Michael told him. 

 

“You heard the man,” Ray said to Charlie.  “We only shit outside or in the toilet, got it?”  Charlie did not acknowledge that anything had been said to her outside the norm, and yawned.  “That’s what I thought.  I should probably take her outside before bed.” 

 

“You’re not going to run off on me, are you, kid?” Michael asked.  Ray sent him a glare.  “It was a joke.” 

 

Ray and Charlie took the stairs down to the ground floor and Ray spent a good 15 minutes trying to convince her it was time to use the facilities.  She apparently didn’t recognize the street outside Michael’s apartment as the correct place to take a dump, and Ray didn’t blame her.

 

When they finally got back upstairs, Ray was yawning, and Michael had the couch pulled out into a bed for himself.  The question of why Michael didn’t just commandeer his bedroom back from Gavin and Lindsay passed through Ray’s head, but he really didn’t care enough to ask.

 

“I’m heading to bed,” Ray said, not pausing to stop to chat with Michael, but heading down to the door he assumed was to the guest bedroom.

 

“Night,” Michael called after him.

 

Ray brushed his teeth, used the toilet, and stripped down to boxer briefs before climbing into bed.  It was comfortable enough, and with Charlie next to him, it was almost like being back at home.  No Ryan, but Ryan didn’t spend _every_ night with him.  His phone was charging on the night stand next to his glasses, ringer on full blast in case Jack called. 

 

She didn’t.

 

It wasn’t that he was expecting a call from her during the night, because, knowing her, she’d wait until a reasonable hour to call anyway.  But part of him was hoping she’d call.  Not because staying at Michael’s was bad, in fact, it had been a really fun day, with promises of more fun tomorrow, but… he just missed Ryan and wanted to know if he was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to chad james. no specific reason.
> 
> Is everyone still alive? Maybe take another break now, get another snack, refill your water.  
> And then buckle up, because the next chapter is also a sweet 8k and I haven't edited yet so it could still get longer.
> 
> Next chapter: Ryan's Back! Or is he??


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long this took, i've been super busy. Without further ado, I present: chapter 25: ryan's back, bitches! or is he?? It's a long one, buckle up folks.

Ryan seemed to wake up all at once, sitting straight up, gasping for air, coughing, blinking furiously to find his surroundings.  He was in a bed in a darkened room.  There was a lamp on in one corner next to a chair.  A book was overturned on an end table next to the chair as if someone had been reading, gotten up to do something, and hadn’t wanted to lose their place.

 

Ryan didn’t know where he was, and panic was beginning to set in.  Where was this?  Where was he?  Had he been kidnapped?  How had an enemy of the crew managed to subdue him?  Where were his weak spots? 

 

Rational thought began to take over from the initial panic.  If someone had kidnapped him, they’d done a pretty shit job at it.  He was in a bed, in a bedroom, of all fucking places.  Not exactly the kind of place a rival crew would keep a prisoner.  Unless they really sucked.  Which eliminated everyone except maybe Fakehaus.

 

The room was not directly familiar.  He knew he hadn’t been there before, but somewhere in the back of his mind, something was nagging that he knew what was going on, but he’d forgotten it.

 

A disturbance – a clatter in the distance, somewhere in the (he assumed) house, followed by a few curse words.  He knew that voice…  Didn’t he? 

 

Oh, it was Jack.

 

Jack, who he’d asked to help him with his reset.  That he’d just woken up from.  Completely alive.  And unharmed.  Mostly.

 

Ryan threw the covers off himself and made to leave the room, but Jack appeared in the doorway, blocking his path.

 

“And what are you doing out of bed?” Jack reprimanded him.  Ryan was flabberghasted by this response.  “I told you to go back to sleep.  You need your rest.”

 

“I… yes, ma’am,” Ryan said, practically marching back to the bed and climbing back in.  “You told me to sleep?”

 

“Still having memory loss, then,” Jack sighed, stirring her coffee.  “Yes, I told you to sleep.  Side effects wear off faster when you’re not conscious.  Please go back to sleep.”  Ryan laid down and closed his eyes, willing himself to obey the instruction. 

 

Jack sighed, picking her book back up again.  It had already been a long night.  Ryan had woken up the first time around midnight, and she’d had to physically fight him before he recognized who she was.  The reaction time was shortening the longer he slept, but he kept waking up on his own every hour or two in a panic.  She’d known it was going to be bad, but she hadn’t known it was going to be this bad.  She wanted to update Ray, but there was nothing positive to say, really.  He wasn’t fit to return to duty yet, might not be for days.  She was vaguely contemplating putting him down again to see if that solved anything, but thought waiting it out might be a good strategy first. 

 

Jack had known Ryan longer than anyone either of them still talked to.  Jack would say she probably became friends with Geoff first, but Ryan was a close second.  If anyone was going to know if he was good to go back to the crew, it was Jack.  She was a little worried about that responsibility.  If he hurt anyone, especially Ray, it was going to be her fault, so she’d be damned if she was letting him go before he was absolutely ready.  Even then, she knew she’d have to keep a close eye on him at the penthouse.  No matter how much he complained or begged, he wouldn’t be going back to his apartment for even longer.

 

As it stood, Ray was with Michael, the best protection money could buy (not that Michael was getting paid to do it).  If Ryan got passed Jack somehow and went looking for Ray, Michael would stand between them.  Michael, the only one of them who had a shot at taking down an angry Vagabond.

 

So far it seemed all their preparations were unnecessary, because Ryan hadn’t been violent since the second time he’d woken up, recognizing Jack almost instantly upon seeing her, but not able to remember anything else since waking up.

 

The sun rose and Jack realized how late/early it was.  She was exhausted from watching Ryan, but there was nothing she could do about it now.  She would have to push through it.  Technically, immortals could go for much longer without sleep or food than mortals, but it wasn’t fun.

 

Ryan awoke again, slowly this time, instead of all at once, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief.  He opened his eyes, blinking, and spotted her across the room.

 

“Mornin,” he said, voice scratchy.  She smiled at him.

 

“Morning.”

 

“Give it to me straight, doc.  How bad is it?” Ryan attempted a joke.

 

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jack said.

 

“What time is it?” Ryan asked.  Jack looked at her phone.

 

“Almost 8,” she replied.

 

“In the morning?” Ryan asked.  She nodded.  “I’ve been out 24 hours?”  She nodded again.  “Damn.”

 

“That time isn’t typical of your respawns, don’t worry about that,” Jack said.

 

“I wasn’t,” Ryan said.  “Is there breakfast here?  Where’s Ray?  Can I go home?”

 

“Yes, we can make breakfast.  Ray’s at Michael’s, where you told him to stay.  And no, you can’t go home,” Jack answered, standing up and stretching.  Ryan also got out of the bed and stretched.

 

“Can I talk to him?” Ryan asked.

 

“Maybe after breakfast,” Jack said, grabbing her phone to bring it with them to the kitchen.  “I can make pancakes or…”  She opened the fridge and looked at the date on the milk.  “Just pancakes.”

 

“Pancakes sound great,” Ryan said.  Jack sent a quick text to Ray that Ryan was awake and seemed fine, and that Ray could call and talk to him whenever he woke up, then she got the pancake mix from the cupboard and a pan to start cooking.  Her phone rang almost immediately.

 

“It’s for you,” Jack said, handing over the phone.  Ryan smiled, answering it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Ry,” Ray breathed from the other end.  It was easy to tell he was relieved and happy.  “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine as punch,” Ryan agreed.

 

“Is… is that good?” Ray asked with a small laugh.

 

“I think so,” Ryan said.  Jack tried to stifle a laugh at Ryan’s mixed idioms.  It was really hard to believe English was his first and only language sometimes.

 

“Tell him it’s too early to tell, but I’m cautiously optimistic,” Jack told Ryan.

 

“Jack says it’s early but she’s optimistic,” Ryan relayed to Ray.

 

“That’s great!” Ray said enthusiastically.

 

“How are you doing?  How was your day with Michael?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, I dunno, he’s cool, I guess,” Ray said.  “We went and fucked up Screw Attack, and then we played some games.”  A soft bark from Ray’s end of the phone.  “Charlie says hi.”

 

“Hi Charlie,” Ryan said, smiling.

 

“What are you going to do today?” Ray asked.  He sounded hopeful.

 

“I don’t know, I’ll probably be here with Jack until we go back to the penthouse,” Ryan said.

 

“You’re not leaving, and he’s not coming over here,” Jack told Ryan.

 

“Tomorrow?” Ryan asked Jack.

 

“Maybe.  We’ll have to see,” Jack said.  Ryan sighed.

 

“Maybe tomorrow,” he told Ray.  Ray sighed too.

 

“Okay,” Ray said, resigned.  “I’ll spend another day with Michael, then.  Maybe we’ll play even more Mario Kart.  Wow.  Amazing.  Nothing could be more interesting.”  Ryan could just hear Michael hollering at Ray, but couldn’t make out any words.  “Shit, you serious?  Dude, I thought you were joking.  Never mind, Ry, Michael got me a fuckin rocket launcher, we are having fun today!”

 

“Alright, have fun,” Ryan said.

 

“Dude, we will!” Ray laughed.  “Love you, bye.”

 

“Love you,” Ryan smiled, hanging up.

 

“What are they up to today?” Jack asked.

 

“Michael got him a rocket launcher,” Ryan relayed.

 

“I want a fuckin rocket launcher.  I never get to do anything cool,” Jack frowned, halfway through making pancakes.

 

“I can get you one,” Ryan said.  “I’ve got like six sitting around the bunker.  Geoff doesn’t want Gavin to have one.  Or Trevor, I guess.”

 

“Understandable,” Jack agreed.  Jack looked to her left and there, sitting next to the fridge, was a rocket launcher.  “Oh, fuck,” she sighed. 

 

Dreaming.  Again.  Hopefully that wasn’t going to become a thing.

 

*

 

Jack managed to shake herself awake.  She’d fallen asleep in the chair while reading.  The sun was rising, and Ryan still hadn’t moved an inch since she’d put him out the day before.  Right.  Not great.  They really should have had some results at this point.

 

She yawned and stretched and checked the time.  Almost 24 hours down.  Ray was going to be a wreck by the time this was over.  So was her back if she kept falling asleep in this chair.  What idiot put Ryan in the bed?  He was dead.  He didn’t care if he was comfortable.  When she’d been dead, Geoff had put her on a table, wrapped in a bloody sheet.  Of course, they’d been at a safe house, trying to hide from the cops, but still, the idea was there.  Jack briefly thought about dragging a table in and moving him, but that honestly sounded like more effort than it was worth.  He’d surely be alive again soon.  Right?  Right??  Guys???

 

**

 

Ray woke up to Charlie licking his face.  Which would have been better if Ray had realized what it was faster.

 

“I don’t want to worry you, but there’s dog slobber all over your guest bedroom,” Ray called over to Michael as he left the apartment to take Charlie outside again.  Michael seemed more confused by this statement than angry, so Ray left it alone.

 

When he got back from taking Charlie outside, Michael was still sitting on the couch, facing the TV, playing some game Ray didn’t recognize immediately.  Ray briefly wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all.  Michael was the biggest proponent of ‘I don’t want to, I don’t have to, I’m immortal’.

 

“Have you heard from Jack?” Michael asked Ray as Ray joined him on the couch.

 

“Nope,” Ray said, pulling out his phone to check it again, just in case.  “I’m kinda worried.”

 

“I wouldn’t be,” Michael said.  “I let her test that shit on me, and it is not great.  I guess the dosage she finally decided on turned my usual 15 minutes into 2 hours.”

 

“Oh shit,” Ray said.  “Yeah, that’s … wow.  I never really thought you could be, like, extra dead.”

 

“Apparently you can,” Michael said.  “I’d be terrified of that shit if I were you.  You’d be down for three months.”

 

“You’re not even wrong,” Ray agreed.  “I just don’t want it to be days and days.  I miss him, y’know?  He’s my boyfriend.”

 

“He’ll probably wake up some time today or tomorrow,” Michael assured him.  “I’ll keep you so busy you won’t even notice.  We still have to try out your new rocket launcher.  You, me, Gavin, Lindsay in the Kuruma, blowing shit up, Team Lads, the way it was meant to be.  Meg on surveillance for us.”

 

“Sounds good, as long as Jeremy’s okay with being left out,” Ray said.

 

“I thought we were mad at him,” Michael said.  Ray shrugged.

 

“Maybe.  I forgot, I guess.”

 

“Go get ready for the day.  We’re going to start having fun at 9am sharp,” Michael instructed.  Ray marched off to the guest bedroom.

 

The day was fun, sure, and it almost took his mind off Ryan.  He texted Jack probably seven times throughout the day, begging for updates, but there were none.  Each time she assured him he’d be the first to know as soon as something happened.

 

On Sunday, they threw a big party for Geoff’s birthday on his yacht.  No one wanted to mention the other two gents had gone missing, but everyone else was there.  They messed around with flare guns and touched butts in the hot tub. [Six Lads, chillin in the hot tub, touching butts cuz they’re Not gay.]  Geoff spent most of the day reading with Griffon while the Lads (including the stream team and Lindsay) wreaked havoc both above and below deck.  After the party, Ray went home again with Michael.  No news from Jack still.

 

Monday passed much the same way as Friday and Saturday, messing around town and then playing video games to pass the time.  Ray stopped asking Jack for news.

 

Monday night, long after everyone else had gone to sleep, Ray was still sitting awake in the guest bedroom, trying to play on his DS, but not able to focus.  He felt like he might cry at any second.  The door to the room opened slowly and quietly, and there was Gavin.

 

“Hi,” Gavin whispered, closing the door behind him and taking a seat next to Ray, unprompted.  Ray sniffed back tears, unaware he’d really been that close to crying.  “He’s going to be fine.  You’ll be back together before you know it.”  Ray didn’t realize Gavin was hugging him until Gavin started singing something Ray half-recognized as a lullaby to him.  Ray didn’t question Gavin’s motives, tbh, he was exhausted, emotionally drained.  Ray let himself drift off in Gavin’s arms, like the good old days.  Somehow, Gavin always knew how to make Ray feel better, as ridiculous as that sounded.

 

Tuesday afternoon, news finally came.  Ryan was awake, but he was not coming home any time soon.  Ray took what little comfort he could in that fact, and pressed Jack for more information, but she didn’t say anything else.

 

**

 

Ryan woke up, all at once, gasping for air and sitting straight up on the bed.  Jack, who’d been dozing in the chair across the room, jolted awake as well.  Ryan noticed the movement and looked at her.  She tensed up, sensing that this was not her friend Ryan, and he’d been very, very right to be nervous about this.  Ryan’s eyes surveyed the room, looking for a weapon and not finding any.

 

“Ryan, it’s me, Jack,” Jack told him softly, not wanting to get into a fight, but mentally preparing herself, just in case.  “You’re at my house, you’re safe, you’re with friends, I’m not going to hurt you.  Just take a minute and remember who you are.”

 

Ryan (or rather, The Vagabond™) did not, apparently, want to take any of this advice, and in lieu of finding a weapon, decided he could take her with his bare hands.

 

A mistake.  She was ready.  The two of them were suddenly engaged in a fist fight, there in her bedroom.  A few blows back and forth, and Jack was aiming to kill.  She swiftly put a knee in his crotch, which doubled him over, then pushed him to the ground.  Then she picked up the thick hardcover book she’d been reading and brought it down over his head.

 

“Ow!” Ryan exclaimed, rubbing his head.  “What the fuck, Jack?”

 

“Me?” Jack replied.  “What’s the matter with you??”

 

“I don’t know!  I just fucking got here!” Ryan said.  “Jesus Christ.  You pack a hell of a punch.”

 

“Tell that to my shoulder,” Jack mumbled, heading into the kitchen to get ice for Ryan’s various wounds.  When she brought back ice, Ryan had moved into a sitting position against the wall.  “Are you going to say anything for yourself?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan said.  “Sorry the other guy tried to kill you.”

 

“Well, I’m not letting you leave like this,” Jack said.

 

“Agreed,” Ryan replied.  “The other guy is strong.”

 

“So you’re still … split?” Jack asked.

 

“Guess so,” Ryan said.  “Can’t say that wasn’t a possibility.”

 

“What do you want to do at this point?” Jack asked, reaching for her phone.

 

“I don’t know,” Ryan said.  “Take fucking human lessons.  What day is it?”

 

“Tuesday,” Jack said.  She typed out a quick text message to Ray that Ryan was awake, but gave no other information.  Almost immediately she got back a reply, begging to talk to him but she refused it.  Another time.  Perhaps tomorrow.

 

“Tuesday??” Ryan exclaimed.

 

“Mhm.”

 

“It’s been five days??”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“You have to let me go home.  They’ll all be worried sick,” Ryan said.

 

“Negative,” Jack replied.  “We are on temporary leave until I can tell for sure you’re fit for human interaction.”

 

“You’re a psychiatrist now?” Ryan asked.

 

“Who do you think Griffon’s been talking to?” Jack said.  “Why don’t you take a little bit and make sure your body is working correctly?”

 

“What do you–” Ryan began.

 

“Bathroom.  Go.  Dump,” Jack instructed.  Ryan shakily got to his feet and started walking out of the room.  “Beat one out while you’re in there if you want.  I’m gonna make lunch.  You hungry?”

 

Ryan didn’t specify a type of food, but he was always hungry, so Jack went to the kitchen and started whipping up a few sandwiches.  She sensed more than heard Ryan trying to sneak up on her and whipped around.  He’d found a cord and had been inches from attempting to strangle her with it.

 

“The fuck is the matter with you?” Jack asked, wrestling the cord away from him.  He growled menacingly and ran for the front door.  Joke’s on him, it’s password protected, and only Jack knew the password.  He’d be back.

 

“What’s the password?” he growled at her.

 

“Yeah, right,” Jack rolled her eyes, unfazed, spreading mayo on bread.

 

“Tell me!!”

 

“You can bring Ryan back any time you like, but you’re only hurting your own chances of getting to leave any time soon,” Jack told him.  The Vagabond™ huffed, annoyed, in a very un-vagabond-like manner, and sat down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table, glaring at her.  “See, this is how it’s going to go.  I’m going to get you to leave Ryan alone one way or another until his mind is strong enough to keep you out again, or I’m going to put you both down again.  You two can fight over which of those options you’d prefer.”

 

“Kill me,” came the reply.  It sounded like Ryan had barely choked it out.  Jack, confused, looked over her shoulder at the poor conflicted gentleman sitting behind her.  He had his fists clenched on the table and he was looking slightly more insane than usual.

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Jack replied, turning back to the sandwiches, adding ham, cheese, and lettuce.

 

“Jack, please,” Ryan said.  “Just do it.”  Jack shot another look at him.  The pleading look in his eyes was enough to convince her.  She picked up the cast iron pan from the stove top and swung it hard.  It hit him in the back of the head and he was instantly out.  Not dead, she noted, but definitely out.  She set his sandwich in front of his slumped form and sat down across from him, enjoying her sandwich while she waited for him to wake up again.

 

“I’m disappointed in you,” Jack said to Ryan, who could maybe hear her, but she didn’t really care either way.  “You need to shape the fuck up, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave unless you get better.  You are better than this, I know you’re better than this, and if you can’t keep the other guy in check, you’re going to have to leave the crew, your boyfriend, and our friendship, because I’m not putting up with this bullshit again.  You are _not_ the same guy who took out 172 gang members in two months.  You’re not the same guy who’d walk down the street and mow down a line of civilians for fun.  That’s not you, you’re not him anymore.  You’ve been getting better since you joined Fake AH, and the fucking leaps and bounds of progress you’ve had since you started dating Ray?  Incredible.  Even I know you’d do anything for that kid.  So snap the fuck out of it, because he misses you.  The real you.”  She slid her plate into the sink and turned to leave the kitchen, annoyed.

 

“Jack?” Ryan croaked as she stepped out of the room.  She took three steps back, to look at him properly.  “That really fucking hurt.”

 

“Yeah, it was supposed to,” Jack replied, handing him yet another ice pack for his head, then sitting down in the chair next to his.  “Stop trying to kill me and I won’t have to kill you first.”

 

“I don’t want to kill you.  I’ll … I’ll keep it under control,” Ryan said.  “It’s hard.  It took me six years to get to where I was before this.  I don’t want to have to say we undid all that on accident.”

 

“Being a person who has never experienced bloodlust as an emotion, I can’t relate,” Jack said.

 

“God, it’s awful,” Ryan said.  “It hurts your head and your nuts.”  Jack laughed and Ryan grinned.  “I’m sorry, Jack.”

 

“You gotta stop apologizing before I think you’re getting _too_ out of character,” Jack joked.

 

“What even is out of character for me anymore,” Ryan rolled his eyes.  “This is awful.  I hate it.  I don't want to feel like this. Not anymore."

 

"Implying that you once did?" Jack asked, concerned.

 

"I don't know. It certainly was easier to do my job," Ryan sighed, readjusting the ice on his head.

 

"Your job isn't to kill people. It hasn't been in years. At most these days you'd get a torture and interrogate. And I can take those back over. It was just a perk for Fake AH that you were good at it," Jack said. "You can retire right now. No one is stopping you."

 

"No one except me," Ryan said heavily. "Saying I have two personalities is inaccurate and probably offensive to people who actually do. It's more like an overwhelming urge to do things that I gave his own face and name because I was ashamed that I wanted to do those things."

 

"I understand," Jack nodded, and even if she didn't, she was good at pretending.

 

"He's never been a separate person, and pretending that he is was only taking the blame off of me," Ryan said.

 

"So this whole reset thing was ... What?"

 

"I thought it would either go away or consume me completely. I hoped it would go away," Ryan said.

 

"Ryan, you committed violent murder suicide and invented a second personality to justify it. I think we could all tell you were never really normal," Jack said, rolling her eyes.

 

"I just wanted a second chance," Ryan said, his eyes pleading as if Jack could give him what he wanted. "I know I was never innocent but I just - I want it so bad."

 

"You have your second chance. You're immortal - you get as many second chances as you want," Jack said. "But you're the one who has to put in the effort. We all support you, just like we do Geoff and his effort to be sober. If you're willing to put in the effort and the time, we are a FAMILY. No one is going to judge you. Not for real. Michael and Jeremy might tease, say the big bad Vagabond is pussying out, but it's not their business. If it's what you want or even need for your mental health, no one is going to stand in your way. Griffon needed to retire, and no one gave her stink about it."

 

"I still want to do it," Ryan said. "I don't like that I still want to do it, but I do. I love it. All of it. The thrills, the close calls, the chase, Ray..." He smiled as he thought of Ray.

 

"He hasn't stopped asking about you," Jack told him. "Wants you home immediately if not sooner."

 

"I don't know if I can trust myself around him yet," Ryan said. "I don't know if he would put me down if I needed to be."

 

"Didn't Gavin give him a taser?" Jack asked.

 

"But would he use it?" Ryan asked.

 

"You think Ray has love goggles?"

 

"It's a possibility. He's safest when he's far away from me," Ryan said, "and has you and Michael standing between us."

 

"You think you would snap and hurt him?" Jack asked.

 

"I've tried to kill you twice already and I've known you a shit ton longer than I've known him," Ryan replied.

 

"But you're not in love with me," Jack pointed out. "At least I hope you're not. If you are, this could be awkward..."

 

"Don't be ridiculous," Ryan said with a frown.

 

"Oh, I'm the one being ridiculous," Jack scoffed.  “You are a fucking drama queen, Ryan Haywood.”

 

“Gotta live up to all those nicknames I earned,” Ryan replied.  “The Mad King lives for drama.”

 

“Yeah, so does Ryan, ya theater major,” Jack replied.  She checked her phone, another four texts from Ray insisting on more details.

 

“Something important?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah, your fucking boyfriend won’t stop asking about you,” Jack said, clearing all her notifications.

 

“Oh.  Can I talk to him?” Ryan asked.

 

“Knock yourself out,” Jack said, handing over the phone.  She mumbled something about where she was headed as she left the room, but Ryan wasn’t paying attention.  He dialed Ray’s number as fast as his fingers would allow.

 

**

 

Ray’s phone rang.  Finally getting a response from Jack was something better than nothing, Ray supposed.  He mashed the accept call button and started chewing her out immediately.

 

“Jesus, come _on_ , Jack, don’t tease me like this,” Ray said in way of greeting.

 

“It’s Ryan,” Ryan replied.  Ray was silent for a second as he processed this, then:

 

“I missed you so fucking much,” Ray immediately burst into tears.  Gavin, who was in the kitchen of Michael’s apartment turned around to look at him.

 

“You okay?” Gavin asked quietly.  Ray nodded, wiping tears off his face.  Lindsay, who was sat next to Ray on the couch, rubbed his back reassuringly.

 

“I’m… I’m alright,” Ryan said, almost hesitant to say anything too definitive.

 

“Are you coming home soon?” Ray asked.  The only question that was important to him.  The only thing that mattered worth a damn.  “When can I see you?”

 

“Maybe tomorrow if we’re lucky,” Ryan said.

 

“I want to see you now,” Ray said.  “Don’t give me that it’s not safe bullshit.  I don’t need a bodyguard.  I just want my fucking boyfriend.”

 

“That’s Jack’s call,” Ryan told him.  Ray sighed violently, flailing his left arm and almost hitting Lindsay on accident.  She dodged it with her catlike reflexes, but accidentally disturbed Charlie, who clattered to her feet, alarmed.

 

“Then fucking let me talk to her,” Ray said.  “She’s never said no to me in my life.”  He paused a moment.  “I’m a spoiled bitch.”

 

“There’s a difference between being spoiled and knowing how to play mom and dad against each other,” Meg advised from the chair next to the couch, where she was curled up reading a book with Gavin’s tiny black kitten sitting on her shoulder.

 

“Is that Meg?” Ryan asked, confused.

 

“Yeah, it’s been wild out here,” Ray replied.  “The whole gang’s at Michael’s.  Well, the OG Lads and their girlfriends.”

 

"Excuse me, wife," Lindsay interjected, but Ray ignored her.

 

"What did you expect?" Ray asked Ryan.

 

"I don't know. I don't know why that was surprising, actually," Ryan replied. "I can ask Jack if you and Michael could come over, but her answer will probably be no."

 

"Well then ask her," Ray said, stubbornly.

 

Ryan set the phone down with a scuffling noise that made Ray think he almost dropped it, then yelled, "Jack!!"

 

"Jack, you're ever so pretty and you know I love you..." Ryan began his begging as she walked into the room.

 

"Ryan, I swear to God," Jack sighed, "if you broke something..."

 

"Can Ray and Michael come over, pretty please?" Ryan made an attempt at fluttering his eyelashes that would have made Meg embarrassed to be associated with him.

 

"That would be nice," Jack said carefully. "Why don't they come over for dinner later?" Ryan knew why she was being so guarded. He'd given her pretty specific instructions and caveats. They had both known Ryan would press against them, that's why they'd come up with them in the first place. "I think a nice dinner would be lovely. Don't you?"

 

"Uh... Ray, do you and Michael want to come over for dinner later?" Ryan asked into the phone.

 

"Dinner?" Ray asked skeptically.

 

"Yeah, Jack and I can cook something up and you guys can come out in a few hours," Ryan suggested.

 

"I'd have to ask him if he's busy," Ray said. "He's in the shower..." There was a short scuffle over the phone and suddenly it was Lindsay talking to him instead of Ray.

 

"Michael's totally available," Lindsay said. "Don't worry about it." Ryan could practically hear her winking at Ray as she handed the phone back to him.

 

"So dinner, I guess?" Ray said.

 

"Sure. Around, um..." he trailed off, looking at Jack.

 

"Let's say six thirty," Jack said. Ryan relayed this to Ray and after a few more heartfelt exchanges, they hung up.

 

*

 

It was decidedly easier to convince Michael to go to dinner than it should have been. They ended up asking Jack if Gavin could come too (and she relented, only because she knew how concerned Gavin could get about Ray), and left Charlie and Columbo with Lindsay and Meg.

 

Jack greeted them at the door and briefly explained to Michael how the locks worked in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Jack had pre-warned Michael of a few details - he could only bring one concealed handgun for his and Ray's protection as anything larger or more visible might set the Vagabond's bells off. Michael had argued that he'd have to get used to it eventually, but agreed for the time being. He had an AP pistol tucked into his pants and an extra clip in his jacket, just in case. Gavin and Ray were, as far as anyone knew, unarmed. Jack had also warned Michael that Ryan had tried to kill her twice that afternoon, but seemed normal since (whatever "normal" was for Ryan). She added that she suspected the Vagabond was merely biding his time, but that seeing Ray might actually help the situation.

 

By the time the Lads arrived, Jack and Ryan had made a goddamn feast – two full pans of enchiladas, covered with cheese, as well as more tortilla shells and some chili, and chips and guac and a myriad of every topping imaginable.  Enchilada Night was finally a reality.

 

Ray had run to Ryan the second he'd seen him, hugging him and whispering an endless string of "I missed you so much" and "I know it was stupid to be worried". Ryan hugged him back, all smiles, and Gavin eyed him from across the room, evaluating his behavior. There was nothing really out of the ordinary yet, but Gavin was generally suspicious of him under normal circumstances, and who was to say "ordinary" for Ryan was particularly safe?

 

"Holy shit, Jack," Michael said when he saw the feast on the dining room table. "You could've ordered Chinese or something."

 

"I would've grilled sausages and some steak but the grill's outside and I didn't want him to run off," Jack replied. "Also I don't know about steak knives..."

 

"Jack, I think it's lovely, Jack," Gavin told her. "Your house is so nice, too. I love the additions you've made since the last time we were over."

 

"Thanks, I'm going to redo the porch next," Jack said. "Then I've been thinking of adding a second floor. There are so many possibilities for stairs..." Gavin indulged her for a few minutes about her plans for the second floor as Ryan assigned Ray to the seat next to his. Michael cautiously took the seat across from Ray and smiled at Ryan.

 

"Hey Ry, how are you feeling?" he asked.

 

"Have a mild headache, but other than that, fine," Ryan replied.

 

"He's fine, don't let him convince you he has a concussion," Jack called over to them. Gavin helped her bring drinks from the kitchen and they all sat down to eat. Jack took the head of the table and Gavin sat across from Ryan.

 

"It looks great," Ray said in regard to the food, though he didn't seem to be looking at it. Perhaps he thought that if he took his eyes off Ryan, he might disappear. He needed to get it together. He'd never cared about anything in his life as much as he cared about Ryan, and he tried not to think about that too much, because it was terrifying.

 

"You could have grilled on the stove top," Michael pointed out, continuing the earlier conversation. "Not that this isn't great. I'm sure." Jack just smiled.

 

"How have things been?" Jack asked the lads. "Did you do anything interesting this weekend?"

 

"I perfected Portal 2," Michael said.

 

"Gavin crashed three helicopters," Ray said. "One of them was yours."

 

"Goddammit, Gavin!" Jack exclaimed.

 

"Look, it wasn't my bloody fault, alright? They shouldn't have let me fly the damn thing in the first place, and it's damn hard to land a helo when people are shooting rockets at you!"

 

"And we saw Trevor's ethnic twin at the minigolf place," Michael continued.

 

"Trevor has an ethnic twin?" Ryan asked.

 

"Apparently," Michael replied. "We should have asked Trevor if he knows that kid."

 

"Oh, I did," Ray replied through a mouthful of enchilada, like an asshole. "He got kind of offended like when you accused Jeremy of being Kovic's brother."

 

"I'm like 96% sure Kovic and Jeremy are related somehow," Michael replied.

 

"What, just because they look alike?" Gavin asked. "You and Fugz look alike, but we don't go around saying she's your sister!"

 

"That actually was a thing a while ago," Michael said. "I almost forgot about that."

 

"Wait, people actually thought Kdin was your sister?" Jack asked.

 

"Some people thought we were twins. I don't feel like short hair and glasses makes any two people look like twins, but whatever," Michael said.

 

"I have short hair and glasses," Ray said.

 

"Didn't you know all people with glasses are related?" Jack joked. "You two and Kdin are actually my children. Gavin, Lindsay, and Jeremy belong to Geoff." Everyone seemed to think this was a lot funnier than she'd intended it to be.

 

"I wear glasses sometimes, what does that make me?" Ryan asked.

 

"That weird uncle that everyone's secretly afraid of," Gavin replied.

 

"I'll take it," Ryan agreed.

 

"The one that lives in his brother's basement or the one who lights off fireworks at 4 in the morning?" Michael asked.

 

"Both," Ray joked.

 

“Rude,” Ryan said, but laughed.

 

“Obviously, that makes Griffon our mother.  Who’s your father?” Gavin asked the others.

 

“Their biological father was just a giant pair of glasses,” Jack said completely straight faced, taking a sip of her water.  Ray and Michael burst out laughing, Gavin cracked up, and even Ryan chuckled.  “Unfortunately, I’m a giant lesbian, and it didn’t work out.”

 

“Jesus Christ!” Gavin exclaimed, laughing.

 

“What?  It’s true,” Jack said, still holding a straight face.  “I’m six-foot-one, for God’s sake, that’s giant territory.”

 

“That’s what we should have made the qualifier to get into the Gents.  Gotta be taller than six foot,” Ryan said.  Jack nodded in agreement.

 

“Fuck you,” Michael replied.

 

“What a great day to be five-eleven and a half,” Gavin said, with what might have been a sigh of relief.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Michael said to him.

 

“So Matt and Trevor are Gents?” Ray asked.

 

“Hmm.  Didn’t think that one through,” Ryan replied.

 

“And Trevor’s ethnic twin,” Michael added.

 

“We hired Trevor’s ethnic twin?” Jack asked, surprised.

 

“Not yet, but you know how it is,” Michael said.  “I’d give it a month, maybe a month and a half, before he just shows up on the B-team’s doorstep.”

 

“We just got new people for the B-team like a month ago,” Jack said.  “When we did all the promotions and the reorganization.”

 

“Jack, please,” Michael said.  “You know how Geoff is.”

 

“I do,” Jack agreed.  “Honestly, I’m fully expecting him to have found and adopted like four more children since I’ve been away from the penthouse.  You three haven’t been home, and I haven’t heard from him at all, which can only mean he found a few more teenagers he needed to give a good home.”

 

“We don’t have any more bedrooms,” Ray pointed out.

 

“What if he found a baby?” Gavin asked.

 

“Oh, boy,” Ray said. 

 

“I don’t know if I trust Geoff with a baby,” Ryan said.  “Even children with two immortal parents aren’t necessarily or inherently immortal.  I’d hate for him and Griffon to wait this long to have kids just for it to be … you know, not immortal.”

 

“Nah, Griffon ain’t gonna be popping out any kids,” Gavin said.  “That’s why they had me.”

 

“And you were a major disappointment, so they moved on and got me,” Ray added.  Michael laughed.

 

“And you weren’t all that either, so eventually, they ended up with the rest of us,” Michael said.

 

“I like the idea of Geoff checking our résumés before hiring us to make sure we’re immortal,” Ray said.  “Don’t wanna deal with that shit.”

 

“You think Matt and Trevor are?” Gavin asked.

 

“They have to be,” Ray said.  “Wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

 

“Trevor’s only here until he’s done with college, then he’s on to bigger, better, and more legit things,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed.

 

“Nah?” Ryan asked.

 

“He won’t leave,” Gavin said.  “Not now he’s been promoted and he’s dating Jeremy.”  Apparently this was news to the two Gents.

 

“I thought Jeremy was dating Matt,” Ryan said.

 

“So did I,” Ray agreed.  “Apparently not.”

 

“I thought Trevor was dating Matt,” Jack said.

 

“Nobody knows!” Michael practically sang, then stuffed half an enchilada in his mouth.

 

“Maybe one of them is secretly dating Trevor’s ethnic twin,” Gavin suggested.

 

“Maybe Trevor is dating Trevor’s ethnic twin, and that’s why he was so weird about us knowing about him,” Ray said.

 

“Mystery solved,” Gavin agreed.  “Well, chaps, it’s been a lovely evening, but I think it’s time for a nightcap.”  He yawned, huge and fake, to illustrate his point.

 

“Gavin, it’s like 7:15,” Michael said, deadpan.

 

“Worth a shot,” Gavin said, defeated.

 

“We’re not leaving soon, are we?” Ray asked, alarmed, reaching one hand to grab Ryan’s leg under the table.

 

“No, we’ll stay until Jack kicks us out,” Michael said.  Ray was visibly relieved, and Michael made a note that he really needed to chill the _fuck out_.

 

The evening continued as Jack cleared plates and served ice cream, and then as the five of them attempted to find an after dinner activity that wasn’t Pictionary.

 

“We could play truth or dare,” Ray suggested as a joke.

 

“Alright, truth,” Gavin said.

 

“What’s your credit card number?” Ray asked.

 

“Fuck you,” Gavin replied.

 

“Usually, there’s 16 numbers, so I don’t think that’s right,” Ray replied.

 

“What if we flipped three coins?” Ryan asked.

 

“What if you shoved your head up your own ass?” Gavin replied.

 

“Whoa!” Ray and Michael said.

 

“I’m curious, Ryan, what’s the weather like up there?  It must be pretty _damn_ foggy, since that’s the _only explanation_ for the fact that you _can’t bloody see_ that when you _flip three smegging coins_ , there are _EIGHT OUTCOMES!_ ” Gavin nearly screamed.

 

“Knock it off, you two,” Jack said.

 

“ _BUT I’M RIGHT!”_ Gavin insisted.

 

“I’m gonna McFuckin lose it,” Michael said under his breath to Ray.

 

“Is this a good time to float my theory that Gavin’s actually American?” Ray whispered back.

 

“It’s never a good time to float that theory,” Michael replied.

 

“Oi!” Gavin shot at them.  “Are you talking about me?”

 

“Yeah, Ray doesn’t think you’re really British,” Michael said.  Ray gave him the look of ultimate betrayal.  “I agree with him.”

 

“Wot!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“Now that you mention it, it doesn’t make a lot of sense for him to be English,” Ryan said.  “He’s never had papers, and what would a kid from England be doing this far west anyway?”

 

“I was an orphan!” Gavin protested.

 

“Exactly,” Ryan said. 

 

“Dan the Man is British, for sure,” Ray said.  “I think you picked up your accent from him and just assumed you were British too.”

 

“Our accents are completely different!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“Are you… sure?” Michael asked.  “They sound the same to me.  Is that racist?”

 

“Nah,” Ray said.  “It’s offensive, I think, probably.”  Gavin sent a pout at Jack and she took pity on him for once.

 

“That’s enough for now,” Jack mediated.  “I don’t need him going home crying to Geoff about how we were all bullying him.”

 

“Way to ruin the fun, Jack,” Michael said.

 

“Yeah, who are we gonna bully now?” Ray asked.

 

“Bully _Ryan_!” Gavin suggested emphatically.

 

“You can if you want,” Michael said.  “I’m good with being alive, and having all my body parts.”  Ryan grinned.  It was very creepy, actually.

 

“No dismemberment inside the house,” Jack told them.

 

“But you won’t let me go outside,” Ryan said in what they all hoped was mock sadness.

 

“Ryan,” Jack said sternly.  Ryan stopped pouting.  “If you can’t agree on a board game, then we’re going to have to call it a night.”

 

Everyone in the room vetoed Monopoly with extreme prejudice a second time, and they decided on a quick game of Uno, which dragged on for about an hour somehow before Gavin threw all the cards in the air and Ryan was so frustrated with both Gavin and the game that Jack declared the game over and somehow Michael was the victor.  Michael took it.

 

“I don’t want to leave,” Ray said, pressed into Ryan’s side.

 

“We’ll most likely be back at the penthouse tomorrow afternoon,” Jack said.  “And then you can have him all to yourself, good as new.”

 

“You’re not my real mom, Jack,” Ray said.  “I know my mom was just a second pair of glasses with a sombrero.”

 

“You can text each other all night for all I care,” Jack said, grabbing one of Ray’s arms and hauling him to his feet.  “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

 

“Your dog is probably anxiously awaiting your return,” Michael said, indicating Ray should follow him. 

 

“Can dogs be anxious?” Gavin asked.  Michael shrugged.  Ray pouted.

 

“You’re not four, I don’t think pouting works,” Michael said.  Ray reluctantly hung his head in defeat, but was not about to leave without asserting himself.  He climbed into Ryan’s lap, where he was still sitting on the couch and kissed him like his life depended on it.  Deep down, Ray was relieved that it was still the same feeling as it had been the week before.  Ray returned to his feet and began following Michael and Gavin out of the house.

 

“Hey, I love you,” Ryan called after him.

 

“Love you too,” Ray replied.  “Text me.”  He winked and then he was gone.

 

**

 

“That wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Michael said.  “He seems… normal?  I guess?”

 

“What is normal for Ryan?” Gavin asked.

 

“No fucking clue,” Michael shook his head.  Ray was not paying attention to their conversation, slumped in the passenger seat of the Dubsta and texting Ryan furiously.

 

“One could argue it’s within the norm for Ryan to try to murder us all,” Gavin said.

 

“You could argue that, but it’s not true,” Michael said.  “He’s never tried to murder us all.  He knows restraint.”

 

“Does he?” Gavin asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Michael frowned.

 

“He’s killed me like twenty times,” Gavin pointed out.

 

“To be fair, we’ve all done that,” Michael said.  “Or at least wanted to.”

 

“Michael, don’t be horrible, Michael,” Gavin pouted.

 

“Are you pouting too?” Michael asked, glancing in the rearview mirror to look at Gavin, who was bouncing around the back seat with no seat belt.  “What’s with the pouting today? Did that shit work on Geoff and Jack when you guys were kids?”

 

“Yeah, all the time, how do you think we got away with everything?” Gavin scoffed.  Michael rolled his eyes.  Ray shifted deeper in his seat and continued to text.  "All in all, though, definitely could've gone worse, right, X-Ray?" Gavin asked. Ray gave a noncommittal grunt.

 

"Alright, shithead, no need to thank me for putting you up in my house for the last week or being your fucking guard dog," Michael said, rolling his eyes. Ray didn't dignify that with a response. "Okay then."

 

"Micoo, what are we doing tonight?" Gavin asked.

 

"This is night, Gav, that's what we call it when it gets all dark like this," Michael replied.

 

"Stop being horrible!" Gavin complained. "You know what I mean."

 

"Linz and Meg have probably claimed the bedroom by now," Michael sighed. "It'll be us out on the couch, boi."

 

"Aw, but it was our turn," Gavin lamented.

 

"Yeah, well, Shithead is going home tomorrow, so we'll be back at the penthouse," Michael said. He shot another look at Ray, who was even more contorted, slumped into the seat, face flushed pink, and still texting. "What the fuck are you doing?" Ray jumped, surprised at being called out.

 

"Nothing!" He exclaimed quickly. "Definitely not sexting. Shut up!" He flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt and returned to his phone, slightly embarrassed.

 

"Fuckin sexting," Michael rolled his eyes. "This guy over here."

 

"Um, how long until we're back at your place?" Ray asked hesitantly.

 

"Maybe ten minutes," Michael said, glancing at the GPS.

 

"Can we go any faster?" Ray asked, an almost desperate whine.

 

"Probably," Michael said, but not putting any more gas down. Gavin giggled.

 

"You're so horrible," Gavin said, very obviously pleased as punch.

 

"Yeah, well, if he gets jizz in my car, he's never going to live it down," Michael said. "He'll be the next Trevor."

 

"Trevor's twin isn't the next Trevor?" Gavin asked.

 

"Probably not. He's not weird like Trevor," Michael said.  “Also, he doesn’t work for us.  He’s just some guy we saw on the street.”

 

"Again," Ray said, "the thing that makes Trevor weird is that he eats jizz. We've all done that." Michael glared out the front window at the road and chose not to say anything to that.

 

"No," Gavin clarified, "he eats his _own_ jizz. When he's munking off. That's weird."

 

"So he's dirty," Ray shrugged. "I'm not here to kinkshame. I'm not into skinny guys like Trevor, but anyone on their knees looking up at you with jizz on their face is hot."

 

"Is it?" Gavin asked.

 

"I guess," Michael relented. Ray resumed texting (sexting with, presumably, Ryan). "Maybe we'll get really lucky and the girls will have gone to your place."

 

"Michael, we are never that lucky," Gavin said.

 

**

 

They weren't that lucky. Both Lindsay and Meg were sitting on the couch waiting to hear how it went. Charlie jumped up and tried to follow Ray as he rushed for the guest bedroom, but Ray slammed the door before she could get in. She returned to the couch pouting and draped herself on Meg's lap.

 

"Was it that bad?" Meg asked as Michael pulled his AP pistol and three other guns he'd had hidden on him, just in case out of his various hiding spots.

 

"No, it was fine," Michael said. "He's fuckin horny."

 

"Oh," Meg laughed. "How was Ry?"

 

"Normal, whatever that means," Michael shrugged.

 

"I should have gone with you," Meg said, shaking her head. "I know him better than anyone."

 

"He's bloody terrifying and I don't trust him," Gavin said stubbornly. "I wish Ray hadn't met him."

 

"What about me?" Meg asked indignantly. "You're more protective of Ray than me?"

 

"You can handle yourself," Gavin said.

 

"So can Ray," Michael spat. "He doesn't need either one of our protection. It's bullshit. You're too protective of him. And he hates it."

 

"Am I?" Gavin asked.

 

"Yeah, I think so," Lindsay agreed.

 

"But he's fragile," Gavin said sadly. "I know he hates getting hurt and missing the action."

 

"Yeah, his situation sucks, but it's not our business," Lindsay said. "If he's willing to put himself in these situations, that's his prerogative. He's an adult."

 

"Yeah, I guess," Gavin sighed.

 

"As long as Ryan doesn't kill him, I think we're fine," Michael said. "And, like, he won't, right? He's a little off his rocker but he's not that crazy." Gavin looked at Meg, who was scratching Charlie between her ears and looked to be deep in thought.

 

"What do you think, girl?" Gavin asked her.

 

"I agree Ray is a big boy, he can make decisions for himself, and he knows what he's getting into," Meg said. "But I'm still worried about him. I don't know if he'd tell Ryan when to stop. I know I didn't."

 

"Ryan is persuasive and manipulative and a mincey little bastard," Gavin said.

 

"Oh, he's a bastard, is he?" Michael replied, imitating Gavin's accent to mock him. "I think you need to keep your personal grudge against him to yourself."

 

"You're one to talk about personal grudges," Gavin shot back.

 

"I got over it!" Michael exclaimed.

 

"Guys, knock it off," Lindsay said. "We're all worried about it, but arguing isn't helping anything. There's nothing else we can do about it tonight anyway. Let's just call it a night."

 

"In that case, Gav and I call dibs on the bedroom," Michael said. Both women expressed their displeasure with this. "Sucks to be you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how the first 1500 words or so was a dream? yeah that was wild, huh?
> 
> maybe the wait for the next chapter won't be so long? it's all written and stuff, just needs to be edited. i'm writing ch28 now.
> 
> next time: what does 'normal' mean for ryan??


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baaaaaack  
> and so is ryebread  
> im in a meeting  
> and wasted  
> here's another chapter  
> it's another long one folks  
> this would be the part of the note where i warn about the partial sexy scene at the very beginning here but i've read it over like 9 times and it's not worth the warning. it's not anything.  
> warning for: finally talking about ray's past and abusive father but not really explicitly.

Jack brought Ryan back to the penthouse early in the afternoon on Wednesday. After a very brief meeting with Geoff about work going forward, Ray finally had him to himself.

"God, I can't believe how much I've missed you," Ray moaned through sloppy kisses. Ryan was already unzipping Ray's jeans, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Whoever it is, fuck right off, please!" Ray called.

"It's important!" Gavin's voice insisted from outside. The doorknob jiggled, but Ray had had the forethought to lock it.

"I'm sure it isn't," Ray replied. Ryan pulled Ray's jeans down to his knees and started kissing his inner thighs. Ray lost his fucking mind.

"But X-Ray!"

"But shut the fuck up!" Ray yelled. Ryan's kisses became mostly teeth, leaving hickies in his wake. "Please tell me we can go to your house tonight," Ray added quietly to Ryan.

"Fine with me," Ryan replied, sitting up. "You wanna put this on hold and go now, or finish this first?"

"Uh..." Ray stalled for time, trying to think. Ryan kissed him again, on the lips and pulled away with a grin so sexy it should be illegal. "No we can finish this first."

**

They didn't get anyone's permission to leave the penthouse. They didn't feel they needed it. Ryan had been fully cleared to return to active duty, and his first job was a training exercise with Jeremy the next afternoon.

There was something different about Ryan, but Ray couldn't quite put his finger on it. His best guess was that Ryan was trying to speed his recovery by pretending to be better than he really was, but Ray didn't care much; he trusted Ryan completely.

Charlie rode with them in the Zentorno to Ryan's apartment. Ryan talked about his assignment for the next day, and how he was looking forward to getting to work with Jeremy. Lindsay texted Ray with a surveil and snipe job for that night as they walked up the stairs to the second floor.

"Ah, Christ," Ray said with a sigh. "Fuckin of course."

"What's up?" Ryan asked.

"I finally get a job and it's tonight," Ray said grinding his teeth. "Fuck."

"Do you want to do it?" Ryan asked.

"Of course. I almost never get these jobs," Ray said. He looked from his phone to Ryan and back again a few times before sighing heavily. "Alright, I'm taking it."

"Good," Ryan smiled. Ray skimmed the details Lindsay was texting him.

"God, it's an all-nighter," Ray said. "Midnight to six am."

"Christ, what is this guy, a drug dealer?" Ryan asked.

"Looks like it," Ray said. He got three more texts from Lindsay in quick succession. "And two assassinations? Are they fucking kidding me? What did they do, let everything pile up for months on purpose?"

"Probably."

"God, my calendar just got so full," Ray sighed. "Let's watch a movie or something so I can rest for a few hours."

Ray ended up falling asleep in Ryan's arms on their bed while the movie played. Ryan drifted off at some point, too, but woke up to Ray's phone buzzing away. Pulling carefully away from Ray, who could apparently sleep through anything, Ryan reached for the phone to silence it. More assignments from Lindsay. They'd really let them pile up. Three more s&s and an offer of an undercover job with Gavin that might take a day or two.

Ryan easily put together that Geoff had let work pile up on purpose as he checked his own phone and saw his list of assignments. This was Geoff's way of keeping them away from each other. Ryan's assignments were with either Jeremy or Michael. Ray's were all solo missions or with Gavin. A staff meeting for Friday, too? Geoff was really reaching for things to keep them apart.

Sure, neither of them had to take all the jobs they were offered, but they'd both been out of work for so long, what with having to lie low after being arrested, sitting out because of Ray's injury, and now Ryan's reset, they were both really itching to get back to work.

Ryan did find it odd, however, that he wasn't on partner assignments with Meg, as he usually had been, before he'd shown his face to the whole crew. She'd always been his partner, that was a lot of the reason they both worked here. It occurred to Ryan as he carefully slipped out of the bedroom to use the bathroom, that it was possible Meg didn't want to be his partner anymore, or that she was taking vacation time. It was more plausible, however, that Gavin was trying to protect her as much as Ray. It would be cute if it wasn't so damn annoying. Ryan might mention this at the staff meeting.

When Ray woke up, it was dark outside. Charlie and Ryan were not in the bed with him and he had at least a dozen text messages waiting for him with more assignments. There was no way he'd be able to take them all, but he wrote to Lindsay and told her he would take as many as he could. Undercover with Gavin for a day or two sounded pretty unappealing. Ray suggested Lindsay go with Gavin instead.

Was there some kind of crew rule that had been adopted recently that said you couldn't work directly with your significant other? Why weren't any of his assignments with Ryan?

It hit Ray very suddenly. Ryan had warned him this might happen if they came clean. Geoff was trying to keep hem apart with work. And it would probably work out that way. Ray was tempted to decline all the jobs just out of spite but apart from the last two heists, and that one job Ryan had invited him on, and Jeremy's training exercises, Ray hadn't really done shit in three, maybe four months. To his credit, he hadn't been offered anything either. Also, being arrested and getting injured had really taken a bite out of his availability.

Ryan was in the living room playing Halo on the big TV with Charlie on the couch next to him.

"Hey," Ray said, dragging his feet as he moved around the couch and leaned against the arm.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Ryan smiled. "Wanna play some Halo before you have to go?"

"Yeah, but I should shower and get dressed," Ray said. "Did you get like a thousand job offers too?"

"Yeah," Ryan half-laughed. "It'll be good to get back into things, though. I feel like I've been slacking lately."

"Yeah, me too," Ray agreed. He yawned bigly. "Not looking forward to this one."

"There's two red bulls in the fridge you can take with you," Ryan told him.

"Ry, you're a fucking lifesaver."

**

Ray got out of the shower feeling significantly more refreshed than he had been before, and headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Passing through the living room, he noticed Ryan had packed him a little cooler of snacks and energy drinks. Fancy. Jack didn't even usually do that.

Ray pulled on jeans, his Fake AH tee with his codename on the back, and his purple hoodie, then added his red sneakers. Cool.

Ray examined himself in the mirror and ran a hand over his face. His facial hair was starting to get out of control, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to shave it all off again. Maybe he'd just trim it a bit. He looked more grown up with it, for sure. Unless Ryan really cared, which he doubted, as Ryan's face was just as scratchy as his own on a daily basis.

Meh.

Ray's gun was in Ryan's car, he'd have to get it out of the garage on his way out. Ray stuffed his fully charged DS in his pocket and egressed to the living room.

"Uh... Ryan?" Ray asked hesitantly to the darkened room.

Ray didn't know what had happened, but one second he was just standing in the living room, the next, he was crouched behind the couch, heart beating out of his chest in survival mode, a knife embedded in the wall where he'd been standing.

Ray took a few deep breaths, trying to understand what was going on. Why would Ryan throw a knife at him? What was going on?!

Ray didn't process rational thought, just grabbed the cooler with his snacks in it and ran from the apartment.

**

The good thing about an all-night s&s was that it gave him a lot of time to sort out his thoughts. As he'd left the apartment on foot, heart still pounding in his ears, with his gun on his back, his phone had started blowing up with a million apologies from Ryan.

Ryan was clearly not as okay as he was pretending to be. But, like, it was probably Ray's own fault for startling Ryan. He should have known better. He sent an apology to Ryan with a few less than threes.

Ray was torn between wanting to ask someone for advice and wanting to keep the incident to himself. Ryan deserved to benefit of the doubt. He was clearly struggling, and Ray should be helping him, not condemning him.

Ray weighed the pros and cons of talking to Meg. Of anyone in the world, she would be best know what to do. But she might tell Gavin, and Gavin would freak out, and then who knows what would happen. Unless she could keep a secret. Michael said she hadn't told Ryan about whatever their arrangement was, and she usually told Ryan everything. Maybe it would be worth it to tell her? Ray's only other option was to tell Jack, but that felt much more like a tattletale.

Ray sipped one of his Red Bulls from his vantage point. His target was not being very interesting, just a drug dealer that had ties to a rival crew. Ray was supposed to get info on his clientele and report to Lindsay or Geoff, then if they were satisfied, Ray would take him out. If not, he'd be here again tomorrow or the next day.

Alright, he was going to try Meg. Now, before he changed his mind. Yolo. She replied to his text within minutes.

_What's the matter?_ came Meg's reply.

_I think I need to tell someone about something, but I don't want anyone to find out. Especially Gavin._ Ray was probably going to regret this. There was no way.

_Absolutely. What's up?_

_Ryan attacked me._

Ray put his phone down and let his heart stop beating out of his chest before looking at her reply. Meg sent several texts in quick succession.

_What??_   
_Are you okay????_   
_What happened????????_

Ray was very nervous. He should have thought this through more carefully before doing. Dammit, yolo. Always getting him into shit like this.

_I'm fine. I think I startled him. He wasn't expecting me to be there and he threw a knife at me, but it didn't hit me and I'm okay. I'm out on a job now._   
_He apologized right after. I really just think I startled him. Has he done this kind of thing before?_

He knew he sounded a lot different than he really felt. At this point, Ray had nearly come to terms with the fact that this was his life now. He loved Ryan, and Ryan was going through a hard time, and Ray should be helping him. Okay, maybe ‘hard time’ was a bit of an understatement.

_He's probably just trying to cope, and I'm sure he'll get better the longer he tries, but I would DEFINITELY tell Jack if I were you._

Ray almost snorted into his can of red bull as he read Meg’s message. No way was he telling Jack.

_That's a hard pass._

_Michael, then. Someone needs to know. If he's a danger to himself and others, he shouldn't be going back on jobs._

_He's got a ton of work lined up. He's training Jeremy the rest of this week._

_I promised I wouldn't say anything, and I won't, but if he hurts Jeremy, that's on you._

Ray hated how much sense she was making. The last thing he wanted was to have Jeremy dragged into this. He was still green, still such a fresh recruit, still untrained. If there was anyone who wouldn’t be expecting shit from Ryan, it was Lil J.

_Fine, you can tell Michael. But not Gavin._   
_Please._

_You have my word._   
_Be careful out there._

Ray noted once again that these jobs were not very interesting. Fortunately it was still early enough in the night that the nearby club was still open and blasting music, so Ray didn't have to worry about being really quiet. His target had had quite a few customers, none that Ray recognized as important people. Where the target went after the club closed was a very vital piece of information that Geoff wanted. Ray didn't know why and god knows Ray couldn't care less, but he did his job and reported to his boss.

The target seemed to go home after his shift at the club, and Ray reported the address, and continued to watch the target from a new vantage point.

As the sun came up, Ray finally heard back from Geoff. He was instructed to leave the target alive for now. Geoff needed him to lead them back to his own crew.

_Good work, kid. Come on home, I've got breakfast cooking_ , was the actual message from Geoff. Ray was not one to pass up breakfast, and headed to the penthouse.

To say Ray was exhausted was an understatement. He harshly regretted walking to his surveillance point, as he was then faced with the difficulty of walking home.

A familiar green and black Dubsta pulled up next to him as he dragged his ass down the sidewalk.

"Need a ride?" Michael asked from the driver’s seat.

"Ugh," Ray replied, but hopped into the backseat.

"Long night?" Lindsay asked from the front seat.

"Fuck you," Ray replied. "Take your s&s jobs as shove them up your ass."

"Alright," Lindsay said. "You could have just said you didn't want the job, I have other snipers I can give them to."

"I want the job," Ray muttered.

Michael pulled the Dubsta into the penthouse garage and they all popped out and headed upstairs.

Ray dodged most of the questions he was asked as he tried to consume his breakfast, then he went directly to his bedroom and fell asleep almost fully dressed.

**

When Ray woke up again, it was to Charlie licking his face. Since Charlie had been at Ryan’s apartment when he’d left for his job, and he’s fallen asleep at the penthouse, something didn’t immediately line up. Ray found his glasses and looked around, it was just him and Charlie. Reaching for his phone, Ray found it was almost 1pm. Ryan would be out with Jeremy by now, and he would have left Charlie with Ray.

Yawning, Ray made his way to the living room. Lindsay and Geoff were in the conference room, Jack was sitting on the couch with Griffon (Jack was playing Trials, Griffon was on her laptop), and Michael was in the kitchen, looking in the refrigerator.

"Hey, look who's awake!" Griffon joked. Ray rolled his eyes and headed to the fridge.

"Oh good you're up," Michael said as Ray approached him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it," Ray said. "I'm not late for a job, am I?"

"No, you're good," Michael said. "I have something for you."

"Yeah? Is it Starbucks?" Ray asked with another yawn.

"Nah," Michael said. "Let's go to lunch. You up for lunch?"

"Denny's?" Ray asked.

"Sure," Michael agreed. Ray followed Michael out of the house, into his Dubsta, and over to the closest Denny's.

After they'd ordered, and Ray was sipping on a cake batter milkshake, Michael finally brought it up.

"Meg told me what happened," Michael said. It was like a bomb had been dropped. Ray had known it was coming, yet he was still stunned.

"Yeah?" Ray replied.

"Do you feel safe with him?" Michael asked. "Because if you feel safe, I'll back the fuck off. But if you want me to, I can have Lindsay fill both of your schedules, and no one will have to know anything."

"I don't want him to hurt Jeremy," Ray said. "Or Meg. Or anyone else."

"Neither do we," Michael agreed.

"I think I'm okay now," Ray said. "I was so freaked out last night."

"Have you seen him?" Michael asked. Ray shook his head. "We always knew the Vagabond was capable of some really fucked up shit, but Ryan? I didn't think he'd hurt any of us. But first Jack and now you?"

"He doesn't mean it," Ray said shaking his head again.

"Did he mean it when he murdered Meg in cold blood?" Michael asked him.

"I don't know," Ray said quietly. "That's Meg's business."

"And now it's my business," Michael said. "I wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on Lindsay or Gavin, and that applies to Meg too. She has a huge scar from where he stabbed her. She lost her entire life's dreams because of him. I don't want that to happen to anyone else."

"Look, I'm sorry that happened, but she's not me," Ray said. There was a brief pause as if Michael expected Ray to say something else, but he didn't, so Michael continued.

"Do you feel safe to be around him?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Ray said.

"What if it happens again?" Michael asked.

"If he hurts me, I'll shoot him," Ray said. "But he's not going to."

"You'll shoot him?" Michael asked, skeptically.

"Yes."

"Alright," Michael said, though he didn't really believe Ray, but there was nothing else he could do about it. "But if this becomes a regular occurrence, you have to tell Jack."

"Fine," Ray agreed. "But it won't."

**

Ray wasn't a stranger to pain or violence. He was a full-fledged member of the Fake AH Crew, a Ramsey boy, a proper criminal. He'd killed people, he'd been shot, he'd died many times.

Not many people knew Ray's whole story, how he came to be immortal. Plenty of people knew Geoff had adopted him after his mother had died, but Ray's story went much further back than that.

Ray's immortality spanned further back than his memories did, much farther than his understanding of the concept. To Ray, it was something he'd always known and accepted: sometimes he died. Shit happens in violent households and the one he'd been born into was no exception. On the outside, Ray seemed like a normal boy. He had the same rate of healing as any mortal child, especially when it came to scrapes and normal child injuries. But unlike so many others, Ray's body didn't show scars. He didn't have even one. And for the amount of time he spent being injured, it was incredible.

It was very obvious to Ray from as far back as he could remember that his father had never wanted children. It was a big factor in Ray not wanting children: he never wanted to turn out like his father. Fortunately for Ray, his father did leave Ray and his mother, around the time Ray started fourth grade. Ray's mother loved him, and she tried to be a good parent, but she struggled with a drug habit and could barely keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. She died of an overdose when Ray was 12.

Ray would say he was used to fending for himself by then. As an immortal, he didn't technically have to eat or sleep, and didn't care about getting caught stealing. Maybe if the police found him, they'd put an end to his life once and for all. But the police didn't find him first. Geoff Ramsey did. He already had one orphan child, why not have a second one? The Ramsey house was everything Ray's had never been: happy, nurturing, and rich as dicks. _The_ Geoff Ramsey. He was a local legend.

Ray was scared at first, to accept the things Geoff tried to give him, but Gavin was much harder to say no to. A thirteen year old boy, already gotten his growth spurt as he towered over Ray, but with an honest grin and warm green eyes, it was hard not to trust him.

That was how Gavin got things from people. He lured them into trusting him. Ray had seen him do it before, and was wary, but he was nothing but genuine with Ray. Gavin, his brother. X-Ray and Vav Ramsey.

So, to answer the question, no, Ray was not a stranger to death, destruction, or violence. But he never expected it from Ryan.

**

Jeremy would not shut up about how amazing working with Ryan had been. They'd been back at the penthouse for two hours, and Jeremy had been babbling the entire time. Ray and Matt were on the couch playing whatever game Matt had picked.

"Does he know he's still talking?" Ray asked Matt.

"I was about to ask you the same question," Matt replied.

Ryan had gone to the bunker after the job to get to work on a few things that he'd been meaning to work on, but kept pushing off. He would be back before Ray would leave for his job that night. Ray was secretly grateful they'd have a reduced amount of time together, but hated for the first time ever that all of his jobs took place at night.

"He's so heart eyes in love with Ryan, it's disgusting," Ray said to Matt about Jeremy. "Literally get your own boyfriend." Matt chuckled. "I'm allowed to say shit like that. Ryan is my actual boyfriend."

"No, just - Jeremy has a boyfriend," Matt laughed. "Me." Ray frowned.

"What about Trevor?" Ray asked.

"What about him?" Matt asked. "He's not here."

"Nothing, I guess," Ray said, more confused, if that was possible.

Michael, who was sitting in a nearby chair and playing Pokemon on his DS, shrugged.

The door to the penthouse opened and Ryan walked in, his arms full with more weapons than should be a) in the penthouse and b) physically possible to carry. Behind him, he was dragging a dolly with another three boxes stacked. Michael and Ray both jumped to their feet immediately to help him. Ryan dumped his armful of weapons into Michael's outstretched hands and full-on caught Ray, who'd decided to go for a jump hug at the last second just to see if Ryan would drop everything to catch him.

"I missed you too," Ryan laughed as Ray kissed his cheek.

"There are people trying to live in this living room," Matt commented.

"Yeah, I'm one of them," Ray replied. Ryan set him back down and pulled his dolly of boxes to the conference room, where Michael was dumping his armful of weapons onto the table. "What did you bring me?" Ray asked hopefully.

"Yeah, and where's my bomb launcher?" Michael asked.

"I put it in your truck," Ryan said. Michael looked like he literally couldn't decide whether to stay or to immediately bounce to play with his new toy.

"We can handle this, go play with your toy," Ray told him. Michael grinned and sprinted to the elevator.

"For you, I got these," Ryan said, producing a pair of black rectangular glasses that looked exactly like the ones Ray usually wore.

"Glasses?" Ray asked.

"A little more than that," Ryan said. "They've got a few enhancements."

"Do they shoot lazers?" Ray asked seriously.

"No."

"Do they have x-ray vision?"

"No."

"Then what good are they?" Ray sighed dramatically.

"Well, they have a digital zoom and a Bluetooth connection. You can take a literal screenshot of whatever you're looking out that will Bluetooth to your phone. Also, if your phone has a data connection or wifi, you can sync it with the upgrades I'm installing on Matt's system and it will send you automatic warnings about incoming police or other threats."

"God, I didn't think I could love you more," Ray said. "Do we have time to bang before I have to go out?"

"Maybe? I think Geoff wanted to see me, and I have more toys to hand out," Ryan said.

"More toys?" Ray asked, popping open the top box to look inside. "Anything for me?"

"Those glasses cost like 3 million dollars, what do you want from me here?" Ryan asked.

"Can you put a laser sight on my rifle? I got it back," Ray said.

"Laser sights are like 100% ineffective and you're already the best shot in San Andreas," Ryan said.

"I know, I just want to freak people out with it," Ray laughed.

"Why not just get a laser pointer?" Ryan asked.

"Laser pointers don't shoot bullets, Ryan. Will you do it or not?" Ray pouted.

"Sure thing, Hun," Ryan said. "I can whip that up tomorrow. I was just thinking about making some new sights anyway." Ray beamed.

"Okay fuck time," Ray bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, ready to go to their room.

"I have some work to do. Why don't you go test your glasses?" Ryan suggested.

"Are they activated by Siri?" Ray asked.

"I can try to crack the iFruit files and work on that, but as of now, no," Ryan said.

"So what you're saying is they are useless for sexting," Ray said, slightly disappointed.

"I wouldn't say useless, but I would warn you it does sync with Matt's computer, and that's a place you might not want pictures of your dick," Ryan warned.

"What if accidentally showing Matt my dick is my kink?" Ray asked.

"It better fuckin not be!" Matt yelled from the living room.

"For the record, it definitely isn't," Ray assured Ryan as he went back to the couch. Jeremy had subbed in for Ray in Matt's game, but offered the controller back to Ray. Ray shook his head and just settled into the chair Michael had been sitting in earlier and started to play with his glasses. Three million dollars of r&d. Now residing on his face.

Ryan cared enough about him to make him three million dollar glasses with his own money in his own time. There was no way this was a work-sanctioned piece of equipment.

It was starting to get dark outside, but Ray decided to test out the functions. Out the window of the penthouse, the most noticeable thing was the Vinewood sign.

A zoom function, right? That was the first thing Ryan had mentioned. Ray noticed the discreet buttons along the sides. As any human would, he began to push buttons at random until he got results. The digital zoom was really quite incredible, and the screenshot function worked pretty well. There was also thermal and infrared settings.  The really amazing thing was that the world and the indicators were in perfect focus.

Ray spent so much time fucking around with his new glasses, that he was genuinely surprised when Michael came back and asked him why he hadn't left for his job yet. Ray sprinted to his room for his gun and snagged the keys to Ryan's Zentorno, then sped to his quick assassination job. The job itself took mere minutes, but staying out of the cops' radar afterwards was usually the time-consuming part. About an hour and a half after he'd left the penthouse, he was back, dragging his feet from the elevator into the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to his room.

Ryan was asleep on the bed. Charlie was nowhere to be found, but Ray suspected she was in Jeremy's room, as she'd been hanging out with him and Matt when he'd left the house.

"Hey," Ryan whispered, eyes fluttering open as Ray tried to quietly get changed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Ray replied. "I just need to shower and then I'll be going to sleep. Probably. The glasses are fuckin sweet, by the way, thanks."

"Only the best for you, my love," Ryan replied.

Ray had never considered himself a hopeless romantic, in fact, he didn't really consider himself a romantic person at all. Sure, he enjoyed the little things in a relationship, the companionship, cuddling, holding hands, playing CoD together at 3:30am and all that bullshit, but pet names had definitely never been on his list. But boy howdy, some of the things Ryan said to him made him want to melt into a puddle of happiness.

Ray figured, despite what he might have thought at the time, that it was entirely possible he'd never been in love before. That's what this was, right? Wanting to be with someone all the time and never let them go? At least in the honeymoon period of the relationship, that's what it was supposed to be, right?

Love was decidedly not threatening your significant other with deadly weapons. That was definitely not right. But, like, that was one time, and he hadn't meant it.

Ray hadn't expected Ryan to still be awake when he got out of the shower, but he was, checking something on his phone. He looked up when Ray walked in in nothing but a towel.

"Oh," Ray said, surprised. "I thought you'd be asleep."

"No, it can wait a few more minutes," Ryan said. "I wanted to talk about last night..."

"What about it?" Ray asked. "If you're waiting for me to drop my guard so you can harvest my organs, I have some really bad news for you."

"No," Ryan said. "I am so sorry, I really don't know what happened, and I swear it'll never-"

"I know, it's cool," Ray said. "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have startled you. I know you're dealing with stuff I can't even imagine. And I want to be here for you."

"It won't happen again," Ryan assured him. Ray just nodded and got into bed next to Ryan. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Ray said. "I'm just tired from staying up all last night. All these jobs, so quick."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's not coincidence," Ryan said. Ray chuckled to himself. "Night, Ray."

"Night."

**

The next day was more of the same. Ryan went out with Jeremy during the day, and Ray played video games with whoever was around, trying to conserve energy for another all-nighter.

Jeremy came home with more heart-eyes tales of how great Ryan was and Trevor, who was there in the living room with Ray and Lindsay, ate it all up.

"I might be jealous if I was Jeremy's boyfriend," Lindsay said.

"I'm jealous and I don't even care!" Ray said. "I have a rocket launcher now, when do I get street trained?"

"I can schedule you and Michael for something like that if you want," Lindsay offered. "Michael's schedule is a little full, but I'm sure he can squeeze you in."

"Maybe if you hadn't put off every job for three months, we wouldn't be so far behind," Ray said.

"If you hadn't gotten arrested and put all crew activities on hold for a month and a half, maybe we wouldn't have," Lindsay replied.

"Michael and Gavin have been arrested a shitload of times, they've just never made it to the station alive," Ray pointed out. "This is bullying."

"I didn't make the rules then," Lindsay replied. Ray sighed heavily. To add insult to injury, Ray's character onscreen got obliterated out of nowhere.

"What the fuck! Did you just no-scope me from across the map?" Ray exclaimed.

"Sure did," Lindsay said happily.

"You bitch!" Ray shouted.

"Don't talk to your boss like that," Trevor interrupted.

"I'll talk to her any way I like. I hope you like montages nobody's ever gonna watch," Ray said. "Jesus Christ. How did you even pull that off? You're like the worst person at games ever!"

"Wild card, bitch," Lindsay grinned.

"Just like in real life, Lindsay's unpredictability sometimes works out for her," Michael piped up from the kitchen. “Unfortunately for her, she has a staff meeting to prepare for and her new office is all the way across town. With my Adder still in the shop, can she make it there and back before Geoff fires her?”

“Shit,” Lindsay swore, grimacing, as she dropped her controller and sprinted down the hall to her and Michael’s bedroom to grab her shoes and keys. Michael swooped in to take her place, both in the game and next to Ray on the couch.

“That’s the privilege of being second in command,” he smirked. “I don’t have to do shit.”

*

A "staff meeting" meant the Gents, Lindsay, Michael, and Trevor, and only them, and no one else. This had recently expanded from just Gents, but the leadership of the crew had grown slightly to accommodate more power. Ray tagged along because he and Ryan were playing at inseparable, and Michael rarely let him out of his sight.

Geoff, still the face of the crew, sat at the far end of the table. On his left, Lindsay. She was the force behind Fake AH, going to meetings with shady businessmen Geoff couldn't be bothered to go to, and helping to shape the legal front of Ramsey Enterprises, Ltd. into something bulletproof, something that could never be used against them if anything ever went to court. Lindsay had more lawyers at her fingertips than Geoff had ever thought he would meet in his life.

On Geoff's right was Michael, the second in command of the crew. Next to Michael, the crew's attack dog, the Vagabond. Next to Lindsay was Trevor, the head of B Team Ops and Recruitment. He was basically mini-Geoff.  Jack was there too, a chair or two's empty space between her and Trevor. Ray had tagged along, and he was next to Ryan, representing Ryan's humanity or some joke Michael had made earlier in the day.

The staff meeting itself was boring, just talk about the sudden upswing in crew activity, plans going forward, when Jeremy would be ready for solo missions, talk of training Matt, when the next heist would be and who would plan it (Geoff and Ryan decided to collaborate on an idea that would take place sometime between now and Jeremy's Official Heist, which somehow fell onto Michael to plan and facilitate), and finally Geoff brought up a question he seemed to have been sitting on for a while: seduction jobs. Back in the day, Ray had taken a few seduction jobs, which were rare and only necessary for targets they couldn't otherwise get information from (usually excessively rich immortals, but anyone would cave for the right price).

Geoff thankfully didn't mention it was Ray who had done these jobs in the past (only because he volunteered, not because Geoff or anyone forced him), because Ryan might have blown a fuse if he'd known. Trevor hesitantly said he might take one, though he didn't look too certain, but Michael butted in and volunteered Gavin and Meg as a tag team. Lindsay immediately backed this idea, though Ryan seemed appalled at the thought.

"Everyone wants a little tag-team TurnFree action, Ry," Lindsay said. Ryan's face seemed to say that he didn't want to be included in this "everyone" and Michael sent a quick look at Lindsay like she'd given away too much.

"Sounds good to me," Ray shrugged. "Meg's fuckin hot. Everyone thinks so."

"Okay, I'll see if they'll do it," Geoff said.

"They will," Michael and Lindsay assured him at the same time.

The meeting was adjourned and Ryan still seemed a little scandalized.

"C'mon, Ry," Ray said, "it's not like I was gonna keep doing it. And we weren't going to send Matt Bragg in."

"You used to do it?" Ryan asked.

"Why else would Geoff have to find someone new? I'm the only one whose relationship status has changed recently," Ray said with a shrug as he jumped onto his bed.  He made grabbing motions at the TV and Ryan handed him an Xbox controller.

"I don't know why I assumed it was Jack," Ryan replied. Ray snorted.

"No fuckin way is she seducing some crusty old guy, she has way more class than that," Ray said. "Me on the other hand..." Ray made a vague hand gesture and a nonspecific ehh noise.

"That's disgusting, I can't believe Geoff would make you do that," Ryan said.

"He didn't make me do anything," Ray said. "It's only a little harmless flirting, let the guy think you're gonna go home with him, get his trade secrets out, shoot his ass, and get the fuck out of there. Geoff would never ask us to do anything sexual. Anything I did was on my own volition."

"I still don't know..." Ryan said.

"You kill people for fun and my past as a semi-prostitute is the morally questionable thing here?" Ray asked.

"I was thinking more Geoff's morally questionable treatment of the children entrusted to him," Ryan replied.

"I was 18," Ray said.

"Well thank god," Ryan said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I'm still not sure you existed before you joined our crew, and you're really getting on me about my past?" Ray asked.

"I don't know much about your past either," Ryan argued.

"You know enough," Ray shot back. "I got over my past. I'm not the one dragging that shit around with me."

"What are you saying?" Ryan asked.

"I'm saying calm the fuck down!" Ray exclaimed. "You're fuckin married and you're calling me out? I don't think so."

"Don't you have a job to be getting to?" Ryan asked.

"Not for a few hours," Ray replied. "Do you want to play with me or are you gonna be Mr. Skulky-Pants for the rest of the night?"

"I don't want to play, but I am sorry," Ryan admitted. "You're right, I'm way more fucked up than you."

"Good, because I really hate fighting with you," Ray said. Ryan smiled. "And I never slept with any crusty guys on a job for Geoff."

*

Jobs, jobs, jobs. The next several days were nothing but quick assassinations, other crew leaders, even immortals that just needed to be taken down a peg; surveillance, much easier now with his upgraded glasses (Ryan admitted he was working on similar upgrades for Jack and Michael); and a few demo jobs with Michael. Working with Michael was a lot more fun than he'd thought it would be, even if Michael did take a few too many precautions to make sure Ray wouldn't get caught in the blast zone (a precaution he never took with Gavin, Lindsay, or Jeremy).

Before Ray really knew it, it had been a week and a half since Ryan's return, and he had barely seen Ryan besides when they were both asleep. If that was Lindsay or Geoff's plan, it had worked perfectly. (More likely it was Jack's plan.)

Ryan seemed normal and fine to most everyone, but Gavin was still highly suspicious, Jack had her doubts, and Ray still couldn't quite put his finger on the problem.

Sunday was Ray's first day off, no jobs for 36 hours and his plan to sleep the entire time had been foiled by Michael insisting he get out of bed and join him, Lindsay, and Gavin for a round of Mario Kart.

Ryan and Jeremy were due home from their last training session before Jeremy's first solo job very soon. Lindsay and the Lads were all pretty evenly matched for Mario Kart so it was very tense. Gavin inevitably made a fatal mistake that cost him the whole game in the last ten seconds.

"Dammit, I was doing so well," he lamented softly as the other three crossed the finish line within seconds of each other. "Bugger my ass."

"Set up the next one while I piss," Michael told the others, setting down his controller and making a beeline for the hallway to the bedrooms.

"Which maps should we do this time?" Lindsay asked. Gavin made some suggestions that were entirely too British for the other two to understand. "Great! Why don't you pick, Gav?" Gavin took his sweet ass time picking, and behind them the door flung open. It was Jeremy, who went straight to his room, and Ryan, who looked like he'd had a bad day.

"Aw, whassamatter?" Ray asked, rolling over the back of the couch. Ryan didn't reply, entering the room like he had a purpose, but perhaps he had forgotten what it was. "Ry?" Ray asked, walking towards him slowly. "Ryan?"

As Ray reached out to touch him, Ryan threw his arm out and hit Ray with surprising force. Ray went flying across the room. Two gunshots rang out, one from Gavin in the living room, and one from Michael in the hallway. Both were headshots, and Ryan crumpled to the floor, dead.

Ray was shaking. Jeremy was the first person at his side, but Ray backed away from him as much as he could, slumped against the wall and disoriented. Michael was the next one to approach him, looking for signs of concussion.

Jack and Geoff ran in from down the hall, alerted by the gun shots from inside the house. Jack looked to Michael, wide-eyed, after spotting Ryan on the floor, and Michael nodded. She and Geoff exchanged quiet words, then Geoff stepped forward, putting his hand briefly on Jeremy's shoulder to indicate he should help him, and the two of them worked on cleaning up the mess.

Jack and Michael stayed with Ray, as Gavin, still recovering from shock a little bit, flitted around. Lindsay exchanged a few words with Geoff, relayed the information to Michael quietly, then disappeared completely.

Ray snapped back into reality to realize that Jack and Michael were both trying to speak to him in soft voices that were a little uncharacteristic for them both.

"Are you alright?" Michael asked.

"Ray, you might have a concussion," Jack said.

"I - I - I can't-" Ray stuttered, trying to process what had happened.

"It's going to be okay," Jack told him. "You're feeling disoriented and-"

"Please don't touch me," Ray got out. Jack and Michael stopped what they were doing and backed up about a foot. Ray tried to grab the wall for support, struggling to his feet through sheer force of will. Gavin was still fluttering anxiously behind Michael. "I have to - go."

"To your room?" Michael asked. "Do you need help?"

"Yes," Ray admitted, and he allowed Michael near enough to him to lean on him until he got his steady feet back. Gavin followed them to Ray's room, but instead of getting on the bed to rest, Ray, still shaking, just collapsed into his chair under the window.

"I'll get you some water," Gavin said, ducking into the bathroom, "unless you want tea!"

"Water's great, thanks," Ray said.

"Ray, I can't even-" Michael began.

"Don't," Ray stopped him. "Just don't." Gavin came back with Ray's water and Ray thanked him, sipping it.

"I have to, um... help them..." Michael said, vaguely, excusing himself. Gavin waved him off.

Ray let out his first tiny, real sob as the door softly shut behind Michael.

"X-Ray, don't cry, please," Gavin said. "You'll be alright."

"I should have believed you, Gav," Ray said shakily, trying to hold back tears. "You told me so many times and I just-"

"No," Gavin cut him off. "That's not who he is. You know that. He's struggling, and being on jobs all the time is making it all worse."

"That- that doesn't- Gavin, he could've killed me!" Ray exclaimed.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Gavin said quickly. "Nothing excuses his behavior, and I'll be surprised if he's not out of the crew. But you know he isn't like this. He will get better. He just needs time. You wouldn't love him so much if he was an absolute psychopath."

"Wouldn't I?" Ray tried to laugh at himself, but it fell flat. "I just - I want to go away - somewhere - anywhere. I can't be here right now."

"I'll go with you," Gavin said immediately.

"No," Ray said, setting down his water glass and reaching under his bed for his suitcase. "I just need to be alone." Ray dumped very few things into his suitcase, grabbed his wallet, and started walking out of his room.

"X-Ray, please don't go," Gavin pleaded, following him to the door of the penthouse. Ray stopped to look for the keys to his Adder. "Please don't leave."

"I'll call you when I get there," Ray said, finally finding his keys and pulling the door open. "Bye Vav."

"Bye, Ray," Gavin said quietly as the door closed behind Ray.

All was quiet for ten seconds, then from beyond the door, "FUCK!" and the door opened again.

"Yeah, my Adder is at my place, can you give me a ride over there?" Ray asked. Gavin nodded and took the keys to his purple Blista off the hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Time: Ray Copes By Running Away and the rest of the crew decides Ryan's fate  
> also it's taken me three days to edit this, it's been a very long time since i was wasted in a meeting. that meeting was a waste of my entire time. next chapter sooner? maybe? i'm still working on ch28, which is really long at this point, probably, idk.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a mf cop out. i hate it and i hate me and i really just wanted to get the chapter 28 so hard i didn't give a frick frack about this. i tried to punch it up and i think i made it worse

Ray drove. The Adder went fast, and Ray couldn't care less where he ended up. The first stop he made was on the other side of Los Santos: a friend of the crew that could get him a fake license or passport, some kind of ID. The protection of being a Ramsey boy was no good outside the city limits. It took less than an hour to have fake documents printed, but with his real name and birthdate. No sense not using the only advantage being arrested had given him: innocence of being the wanted criminal known as BrownMan. After that, Ray turned north and just went.

 

Ray had only left Los Santos a handful of times in his life, and he'd never gone alone. He wondered if life in other places was as different as it seemed on TV. Were there really places where organized crime was not the norm? Where people died from illness or old age instead of bullet wounds and actually stayed dead? Where you weren't going to be jumped by every random person on the street? Where people actually lived their nine-to-fives with their 2.5 children and their dogs, and made enough from their honest jobs to keep food on their tables, clothes on their backs, roofs over their heads, and a little extra in their savings accounts? Suburbia had to be a myth.

 

Still, if it was out there, it wasn't a bad place to go. Somewhere he could normal. Somewhere he didn't have to accept that 'sometimes he died' was the norm for him. Somewhere that was unheard of.

 

Essentially, that ruled out any place he'd been to or heard of. Mexico was right out. Vegas hadn't been terrible, but he would be a little afraid to walk around without the protection from the crew. Liberty City, Vice City, none of those. What about Seattle? Was there organized crime in Seattle? Probably.

 

What would Ray even do if there wasn't organized crime? He didn't have any other marketable skills that he knew of, and he certainly wasn't interested in being a prostitute. That was dangerous. Sure, he was alright at math, but he only had a high school diploma, and he wasn't sure he could prove it. How was he going to get a job and an apartment in a new town?

 

Then it hit Ray. He didn't need a job, he had plenty of cash in the bank. Thank God and also Jesus for Geoff and his insistence that Ray have a savings account. There had to be enough money in there for Ray to live outlandishly for months, if not years.

 

Why was he acting like he was never going back to Los Santos? His family was there. His friends were there. His job was there. Gavin was there. Charlie was there. Who was going to take care of Charlie?? Ray was the worst. That thought alone was almost enough to make him turn around, go back, rethink this entire thing. He wasn't even sure where she was right now! Jeremy and Ryan had been out most of the day and Ray couldn't remember seeing her at the penthouse. He sent a frantic text to Gavin about her. Gavin replied a minute or so later, saying that Jeremy had her and was going to take care of her until Ray got back. Ray didn't have the guts to tell Gavin he wasn't coming back.

 

Ray didn't stop driving until he was too tired to keep his eyes open, and he checked into a midgrade hotel. He would've gone dirt cheap, but he was concerned about his car. He hadn't thought about the fact he was driving around a hunk of metal that was worth at least a million dollars. The desk clerk even looked outside at Ray's car as he checked in. Far from being in awe at the price, the clerk more seemed to be thinking Ray had stolen it. Which... He had. But like... That wasn't strictly relevant. It was good to know racism still existed outside Los Santos. Ray second guessed staying at that hotel, afraid his car would be gone in the morning, but he was so tired, there was nothing else he could really do.

 

Ray only stayed long enough to get a few hours of sleep, then he was on the road again.

 

Several days passed. Gavin sent Ray updates on life back home via text, and Ray read them, though he didn't respond.

 

Ray found himself in the Midwest, miles and miles of cornfields in every direction. It was bizarre in contrast with the city he'd grown up in and become accustomed to.

 

Ray vaguely wondered if Gavin really had ever lived in Britain and what it looked like. Gavin wouldn't know, of course, he remembered very little about his life before the orphanages and Geoff.

 

It wasn't uncommon for immortals to have temporary or even permanent amnesia of their lives before their first death. Griffon was one such immortal. She had no idea what she'd done to get herself killed, where she was from, if she had a family, or even her own name. (Such extremes were rare, however.) Ray wished he could be so lucky.

 

Ray headed south again, towards warmer air. He narrowly outran a tornado just for the thrill of it and stopped for a few days somewhere in Texas. An upper class hotel with a private garage for his Adder, a spa where he could get a massage if he wanted (he wasn't sure if he did want one, but the option was nice), high speed internet, and most importantly, a shower with decent water pressure. He'd barely decided to stay longer than one night before he caved and went to a Best Buy to buy an Xbox. He played games in single player, or with his crewmates back home, but didn't reply to their messages. He didn't know what to say. He was alive, sure, but had little else to report. He didn't have a fucking clue, my dude, as the kids say.

 

Eventually, around ten days since he'd left, he finally responded to Gavin's texts. Gavin had resorted to telling him even the tiniest bits of news, trying to get him to respond. The news in question was that Trevor had gone blond for no apparent reason and everyone was pretending they couldn't tell Trevor and Gavin apart. Ray asked for a picture and was greeted not even a minute later with a selfie of the two of them together.  The caption read 'Trevor's English Twin'.

 

_You're an idiot_ , Ray had replied. _Get on Xbox Live I bought a headset._

 

Gavin took his sweet ass time complying with this request, but eventually logged in and Ray immediately voice chatted him.

 

"Everyone's so worried about you," Gavin said as an opener.

 

"Tell them all I'm fine," Ray replied.

 

"When are you coming home? It's been ages," Gavin said.

 

"I don't know," Ray said honestly. "I might not come back at all."

 

"Geoff's really worried. He won't say it, but I can tell," Gavin said. "Everything's been so slow since you've left. Jeremy was supposed to get his first solo mission, but he and Trevor and I have been running around trying to get all your jobs covered, there hasn't been time."

 

"Is that supposed to make me feel guilty?" Ray asked.

 

"No! It's just the truth," Gavin said quickly. "The Gents are sort of busy with other stuff, and Michael's been planning the next heist. He really wants to know if you'll be there for it."

 

"I most likely will not be," Ray said. "You have more than enough people now, I'm not that important."

 

"You're the most important person in the whole world to me," Gavin said.

 

"Thanks, Vav."

 

*

 

At some point, Ray realized he was bored. It wasn't that he had a lack of video games to play, he had the whole Xbox live arcade at his fingertips, but he wanted to work. It would have been at this point, having been gone about two weeks, that a normal person would have thought, 'alright, vacation's over, time to go home.' But Ray wasn't a huge proponent of rational thought. So he went out of his way to see if anyone in the city needed a shot for hire.

 

And oh boy, did the city deliver. There was apparently a shortage of snipers there, and Ray had his pick of any job he wanted.

 

*

 

Back in Los Santos, things had gone insane. Gavin hadn't been kidding in any way when he said they were busy all the time.

 

When Ryan had respawned, an hour or so after he’d taken the two bullets to the head, he found himself somewhere no one wanted to be: in one of the Ramsey-Pattillo Crime Syndicate's interrogation rooms. A place that no one had ever left alive. Staring him in the face was most of the crew: Geoff, Jack, Michael, and Jeremy. Not exactly the first thing you wanted to see when you woke up.

 

"You have fucked up now," was the consensus in the room. Ryan knew. He was so fucked. He knew he shouldn't have been on jobs or around people, especially today. He should have cancelled his plans and stayed home. Alone. This was it, he was out. He'd be lucky if he could still make weapons for them. And Ray would never forgive him, but at least he could try to apologize. If he was allowed around Ray.

 

Michael and Jeremy both cracked their knuckles, looking incredibly intimidating. Jack had a gun trained on him, aiming for his forehead. Geoff just looked disappointed, and that was worse than anything else.

 

Ryan didn't speak, just waited for them to decide his fate. He didn't know what Fake AH did to members who went rogue, and didn't expect them to go easy on him.

 

Geoff stepped forward, right in front of Ryan and leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees, like you might do if you were about to address a child.

 

"You okay, buddy?" Geoff asked. Ryan, for once, was terrified. Nothing about Geoff was threatening, and that was the scariest part.

 

Ryan didn't reply to that question, because he didn't know how to. Was he okay? Technically speaking, he was alive. Was he mentally stable? Clearly not.

 

"Ryan?" Geoff asked, trying to catch Ryan's gaze. Ryan's eyes locked with his. "I don't know what's going on in your head, buddy, and I can't even start to imagine, but we all want to help."

 

Was this a weird death dream Ryan was having?

 

"You do?" Ryan asked.

 

"Yeah," Michael agreed.

 

"Ry, we can't help you if you don't let us," Jack said, though she made no move to lower her weapon.

 

"But..." Ryan began, not knowing where to even began. He'd ... Well he'd thrown Ray across a room, for starters. And that's just the first thing he'd been actually caught doing. He'd nearly hit Jeremy with grenades at least four times (and managed to play it off as part of training), and he'd gotten into a scuffle with Michael as well. That wasn't even counting the knife he'd thrown at Ray and the countless civilians he'd taken out. He was pretty sure he'd terrified Jeremy half to death with these last two weeks of training together. (He clearly didn't know how heart eyes Jeremy was for him.)

 

"No buts, dude," Geoff said. "We're gonna help you get better."

 

"Really?" Ryan asked.

 

"Yeah," Geoff said. Jack, Michael, and Jeremy nodded and made other gestures and affirmations of support. "It won't be easy, especially for you, but if I can be sober, we can fix you."

 

"I really would appreciate the help," Ryan admitted.

 

"You don't have to go through this alone," Jack said. "We're your crew."

 

"We're your family," Geoff corrected her.

 

*

 

Getting Ryan to behave like a normal human was harder than Geoff had thought it would be (though it was exactly as difficult as Jack and Michael thought it would be).

 

First rule? Murder break. No exceptions. Ryan was stripped of his weapons, and he was a whiny pissbaby about it. Even though he knew he couldn't be trusted with them, he was still annoyed about it. The important thing was getting better, he didn't necessarily have to be in a good mood about it.

 

Second rule? Ryan always had a buddy. At least one, sometimes more. At first it was Jack, but she knew him too well. She could predict almost like clockwork when he was getting too moody, and that wasn't helping. Ryan needed to do it for himself. Michael took over after Jack, but he overreacted, still salty about Ray leaving, and put Ryan down for a relatively minor infraction. The good news was Ryan learned his respawn time was less than an hour.

 

That left Jeremy. They were all worried about leaving the rookie with the Mad King, but there didn't seem to be anything Ryan could do that could deter Jeremy from wanting to work with him. It worked out really well, too, since Ryan wasn't allowed weapons, Jeremy had to learn to protect and shoot for two, a skill that would become useful when it came time to street train Matt Bragg.

 

So Jeremy and Ryan became Battle Buddies. They stuck to each other like a stamp to a letter, like birds of a feather they stick together.  Only Gavin still thought leaving their newest member with the actual murderous psycho who’d driven Ray halfway across the country was a bad idea, and _boy_ did Gavin think it was a terrible idea.

 

Gavin didn't participate in the Ryan Rehabilitation Project. He took the jobs Lindsay gave him, most of which were jobs that had been previously assigned to Ray, but he didn't want anything to do with Ryan. Gavin got into an argument with Geoff about it - Gavin couldn't believe the rest of them had let him off like that, while Geoff practically screamed he couldn't afford to lose another crew member.

 

"He's better off with us than he is on his own," Geoff told Gavin. "We can make sure he doesn't hurt anybody else."

 

Gavin hated it. If Geoff had just sent Ryan away, condemned him, made him leave Los Santos for good, then Ray could come back and he wouldn't be so far away and all alone.

 

Gavin didn't have any empirical evidence to back up this accusation, but he felt it was right, and that was good enough for him.

 

Gavin was fucked off with Michael for it too. Michael agreed with Geoff (as he so often did, though he pretended not to) that Ryan was better off staying with them.

 

Lindsay pretended not to have an opinion on the situation. She played the neutral card, and it was the smart choice. She was the boss.

 

Meg was, incredibly, on Gavin's side. She knew better than anyone what Ryan was capable of. Yes, she had made her peace with him that she wasn't the person she once was, but his whole killing innocents thing really ground on her nerves.

 

(Matt was never asked his opinion, but remained slightly wary of Ryan anyway. Jeremy had only great things to say about him and Matt sometimes wondered if Jeremy had been brainwashed. He tried bringing it up with Trevor, who only laughed as if Matt had made a joke.)

 

Therefore, it wasn’t surprising to anyone that Gavin and Meg were the only people in contact with Ray. Gavin deliberately didn't mention Ryan at all, didn't tell Ray that the crew had nearly unanimously decided to forgive him his sins. Gavin would rather turn him over to the authorities than forgive him.

 

*

 

Gavin got the idea to visit Ray very suddenly, about six weeks after Ray had left. He realized he had four or five days with nothing to do before the heist that he could use to go see Ray. That was, if he could somehow trick Ray into telling him where he was.

 

As it turned out, Ray didn't need to be tricked, he easily told Gavin where he was holed up, address and room number of the hotel he was staying at. Ray's sniper salary in the new city more than paid for the nice hotel. Ray couldn't figure out why so many criminals lived in seedy motels and did shady deals in run down shacks.

 

Gavin almost didn't let Geoff know where he was going, but then thought better of it, in case something happened. Because of Gavin's strange respawn mechanic (wherein he spawned in downtown Los Santos regardless of where he'd died), he briefly wondered if that worked from anywhere in the world, and realized he didn't really want to know. Still, it would be a quick way to travel back. (Thinking about the science behind it later, Gavin realized there was no way it would still work, though he kind of wanted to try it. Maybe if he went to visit Dan in England.)

 

Gavin drove from LS to Texas. That anyone trusted him not to crash was astounding. Ray greeted him, showed him the sights, and took him to dinner. Then they played games in Ray's hotel room until Gavin brought up the real reason he'd come. It's not that Ray hadn't been expecting Gavin to have an ulterior motive, he knew full well Gavin wanted him back home, but he didn't know how to tell him.

 

"Are you ever going to come back?" Gavin asked.

 

"I don't know if I can," Ray said. "I feel like I burned all my bridges just running, and I know I wouldn't feel safe there."

 

"Geoff would take you back in a second. Everyone misses you," Gavin insisted.

 

"Everyone?" Ray asked skeptically. Gavin nodded. "What about Ryan?"

 

"Well... I haven't spoken to him personally..." Gavin attempted to be vague.

 

"I do miss him, Gav," Ray sighed. "I miss everyone."

 

"We all miss you!" Gavin said.

 

"He's still around, though?" Ray asked. "Has he tried to kill anyone else, or just me?"

 

"Not- not recently," Gavin said. "Geoff's really trying to make him a better person, I guess."

 

"You guess?" Ray asked.

 

"Iunno really," Gavin shrugged. "I'm not really involved with the whole thing."

 

"So what's happening with the crew?" Ray asked.

 

"We have a big heist in a few days," Gavin said. "Michael's been working so hard preparing for it."

 

"Oh?"

 

"The plan is pretty solid," Gavin said. "Should go pretty well." He gave Ray an overview of the plan. It sounded like fun.

 

“God, I wish I could be there,” Ray sighed.

 

“It’s super dangerous, there’s no way the Gents would let you anywhere near the action anyway,” Gavin said.

 

“Which, as usual, is bullshit,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “It’s fuckin crazy.  There are _no_ immortals here.”

 

“None?” Gavin asked, taken aback.

 

“Very few,” Ray amended.  “Not like Los Santos.”

 

“Weird,” Gavin frowned.  “I guess that explains a lot?”  Ray shrugged.

 

“You know what I miss most about home?” Ray asked.  Gavin gestured for him to continue.  “Charlie.”

 

“She’s taken care of, don’t worry,” Gavin smiled.  “Jeremy and Meg are sharing custody of her.  She’s well-loved.”

 

“Does she miss me?” Ray asked.

 

“Of course!”

 

“Ryan doesn’t take care of her?” Ray asked.

 

“He gets angry,” Gavin said vaguely.  “I don’t see him much, to be honest.”

 

“How are things with you two and Michael and Lindsay?” Ray asked.  Gavin grimaced.  “That bad?”

 

“Could be better, I reckon,” Gavin replied.  “It’s getting better again.  It was rough for a little bit, right after you left.”

 

“Why?” Ray asked.  “Like, if you don’t mind.”

 

“It was an even split, Turney and I were very against Ryan staying with the crew.  The Joneses, not so much,” Gavin said lightly, as though that information could ever be light.

 

“I mean, Vav, I’m not saying chuck him out,” Ray said.  “If it ever came across that way, then, like, I’m sorry.  Yeah, I think he can be dangerous, but I want him to get better.”

 

“Do you still love him?” Gavin asked.  Ray took a moment to ponder it.  His gut reaction was to say yes, of course he did, how couldn’t he?  He’d promised Ryan he’d love him and stay with him no matter what, and he definitely hadn’t kept that promise.  Ray had spent a lot of time thinking he should have believed Ryan when he said he was dangerous.  Ray had never thought Ryan or the Vagabond™ would hurt him.  Clearly, he was wrong on that count, but even still, Ray was a fucking coward.  He shouldn’t be hiding, 1400 miles away from his friends and family.  Too late now.

 

“Everything’s clearer in retrospect,” Ray finally said to Gavin.  Gavin frowned, not seeing how this was an answer to the question he’d asked.  “I know I still do, but maybe I shouldn’t.  Whatever we had is dead.  There’s no way we could pick up from here.”

 

*

 

Ray missed the crew, he really did, he just couldn't bring himself to entertain the thought of going back. Not yet. Knowing for certain that Ryan was still with the crew was both a relief and not. If at some point Ray got to a point in his life where he wanted to see Ryan again, and he was sure he would, he would be relieved to be able to fit back into the crew. But now, he felt like he couldn't face him. Not yet. Not even after weeks. What would Ray say? What would Ryan do? He hadn't tried to contact Ray at all. He probably either thought Ray wanted nothing to do with him, or had been told not to bother.

 

Some days Ray hovered over the call button next to Ryan's name in his contacts, missing him so bad that he was willing to forget. His common sense knew better. His common sense that sounded suspiciously like Ryan reminded him that even though he'd escaped major injury, the next time he might not be so lucky. Growing up in an abusive household, the last thing Ray needed was to carry that with him. Though he'd been free from his abusive father for 12 years, he'd never forget what it was like. He was not going back to Ryan unless Ryan could prove that he wasn't like that.

 

Ray knew Ryan wasn't like that. Even Meg, who knew better than he did, knew Ryan wasn't truly like that. Ryan wasn't the Vagabond. Unless... Was he? Maybe Ryan had always been the Vagabond. No, if Jack had ever thought Ray was in danger, she would have told him. He wasn't like that. He couldn't be.

 

And it continued. Ray couldn't come to a definitive answer on anything. So he stayed away. Because it was easier than facing the unknown waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters 28 and 29 coming Soon?
> 
> Next up: The Battle Buddies and the Most Extra Heist ever (this chapter is not finished - though i plan to finish it tonight - and it's like super long idk)
> 
> and even later: Ray comes back to LS? Will the crew accept him back in their ranks? Will Ray and Ryan ever be what they were again?


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that will break you. Not because of the content, but because YET AGAIN, it's pushing 12k.
> 
> Could I have split it into two parts? Yes.  
> Am I going to? No.  
> Why? Do you really want me to leave it on a cliffhanger for two months? Didn't think so.
> 
> Without further ado, I present: The Battle Buddies Chapter featuring Ryan and Jeremy as The Battle Buddies, costarring Michael as Mogar 'The Situation' 'Rage Quit' Jones. Oh, and also introducing Alfredo 'The Sauce' Diaz, Andy Blanchard, and (for the second time) Chad James.
> 
> Warning for: temporary character death (as usual), some semi-permanent injuries, and overly distraught significant others.

Michael had been given the (not easy) task of creating a heist that would be lucrative and effective that also didn't include Ray and couldn't rely on the Vagabond for brute force. Jeremy was taking on a very big responsibility going toe to toe with Michael on demo and muscle. That meant Jeremy couldn't be their sniper, their eye in the sky, the job he’d literally been training for since he’d joined the crew. Michael had evaluated both Gavin's and Trevor's skills, and neither were up to par with Ray or Jeremy. After tearing his hair out for two weeks and redesigning it four times, trying to do away with the position entirely, he found The Sauce.

 

Alfredo wasn't looking to join a crew, only did freelance work, and that was fine with Michael. He evaluated his skill and Alfredo scored off the charts. He was trustworthy enough, recommended from some of the B-team.

 

Everyone was hesitant about bringing in an unknown, especially Geoff. It was the last thing they needed now, a real wild card, especially with Ryan's current state, but after interviewing him, they found he really meshed well with the group and Geoff offered him a full-time position. Alfredo took a rain check on the position, at least until after the heist.

 

They definitely didn't need to do another heist for the money. They'd gotten more than enough from Ray's heist to last a while. This one was for something else.

 

There was a science laboratory in North Los Santos, and they had been doing research on immortals, trying to decipher what it was about them that made them immortal, with the sole intention of being able to kill immortals permanently. This heist was much more important than any money had ever been.

 

The lab was heavily guarded, and all the research was backed up a thousand different ways. Between Matt, Ryan, Trevor, and Gavin, they'd managed to figure out a way to corrupt the data so that it would be irretrievable, but they would need to muscle their way into the building to do it. While they were inside, they planned to trash the entire place. Fake AH stood for all immortals when they said they needed that experiment gone.  Both Funhaus and Screw Attack had contacted them to see if they needed any help with the heist.  Michael had declined all their requests.  Chad James invited himself to AH Labs to help with the science stuff.  Michael kind of felt bad they’d shot him for no reason a few weeks before and let him help.

 

It was all hands on deck, even Matt, for the setup. The blueprints Meg had gotten from City Hall of the building were not accurate, and seemed that way on purpose. Matt, Trevor, and Chad spent four days with very little break time for sleeping or eating trying to make a working 3D virtual model. Once they had it, they could use VR to explore the building and get a feel for where the callouts would be, where cameras could be (in case Matt couldn't cut power to them), where security might be.

 

The hardest part? They had to run this job with the assumption that the guards and anyone they ran into had powerful anti-immortal weaponry. One hit and they could all be dead. Gavin was freaking out. He was the one who died most often, especially on heists. There were actual stakes in this heist. Gavin had to put his trust in Matt and Alfredo to keep him alive through almost the entire heist. He and Trevor had a large section where they would be going in blind, and if Matt or Alfredo had a crossed signal or miscommunication, it could very well be game over.

 

"Alright, everybody," Michael addressed the ever-increasing group of assholes he called crew members. "This one is not gonna be fun."

 

"I'm out," half the room joked at once.

 

"We're all already familiar with the nature of the heist, so I'll get right into it," Michael said. "There's 10 of us this time. That's one more than last time, and 4 more than usual."

 

"Griff's available if we need her," Geoff told Michael.

 

"Noted."

 

"So's Turney," Gavin piped up.

 

"I know," Michael said. "This is going to be dangerous, we all know the stakes. Therefore, the eight of us that are going inside will be using the buddy system."

 

"Battle Buddies!" Jeremy exclaimed happily.

 

"Correct," Michael said. "Team One is Battle Buddies. Team Two is Jack and I, Betting Buddies. Team Three, Geoff and Lindsay, Boss Buddies. And Team Four, Gavin and Trevor, the Twinks." The entire room erupted into laughter, but none harder than Geoff, who looked like he might die from laughing too hard.

 

"Oh my God," Geoff wheezed as the laughter died down. "That was totally worth it. Fuck!"

 

"Matt will run surveillance from his office, and Fredo will be mobile surveillance inside the facility. As we are all well aware, Ryan is on his murder break, so he and Jeremy will be playing the role of the Demo Crew. They'll go it after everyone else is out, blow the place, and run like hell," Michael said. "Relatively easy. Jeremy will take care of any armed hostiles." Jeremy nodded in confirmation. "The first group in will be the Twinks. They are going to sneak in through the air vents."

 

"Nice," Jack laughed.

 

"Every good crew needs to do vents eventually," Jeremy said. "E-Vent-ually."  _Goddammit, Barb!_

 

"Their trek will not be easy, and they'll each be directed by Matt and Alfredo so that they can hopefully sneak past what we're going to call the first line of defense," Michael said. "The Twinks will be completely reliant on our intelligence to keep them alive. Not our actual intelligence. Like, the information we give them."

 

"Thank God," Trevor laughed.

 

"If necessary, we can try to make security think Gavin and TreyCo are only one person," Geoff laughed.

 

"Anyway," Michael continued, "once inside, the Twinks will infiltrate the security room and turn off the cameras manually. Then and only then will it be safe for the Boss Buddies and the Betting Buddies to enter. Boss Buddies will be going in the back, Betting Buddies will take the front, and clear out any armed hostiles on their way. Meanwhile, while the Buddies are running distractions, the Twinks will run the virus into the computer systems to corrupt the data. After the place is empty, each team of Buddies inside the building will take a Twink and get the fuck out."

 

"Who's going with who?" Jack asked.

 

"Trevor will join Boss Buddies, Gavin will come with me and Jack," Michael said. "Then and only then, after everyone has cleared the building, will the Battle Buddies move in as the demo crew."

 

"What if they need more than two people?" Gavin asked.

 

"Then I'll go with them. But they should be able to handle it," Michael said. "I do not want a single inch of that facility still standing when we are finished."

 

"You said this wasn't going to be fun," Ryan said with a grin. Geoff had a spray bottle of water in front of him, and he gave Ryan two or three spritzes. "Hey!"

 

"You had that look," Geoff said. Ryan glared at him.

 

"Demo can be fun too," Ryan said sourly.

 

"I don't know about you, Rye," Jack said. "You've always got that look."

 

"What look?" Ryan asked.

 

"The look of a sober alcoholic watching someone else drink," Geoff said.

 

"I'm living vicariously?" Ryan asked. "No fucking shit, Geoff. You hired me to provide you a service that I can no longer provide you. Why am I even still here?" Jeremy and Jack both sighed. Yes, murder break was hard on Ryan, but it was harder on everyone else. It might be fuckin worth it just to let him do what he wanted.

 

"Ryan, please, this isn't the time or the place," Geoff said softly. "We'll talk about this in my office later."

 

"Let's talk about this right fuckin now," Ryan demanded. Geoff stood up from the table, grabbed Ryan's arm with surprising grip and pulled him out of the conference room.

 

"Um... Any questions?" Michael asked the rest of them.

 

*

 

Ryan pulled his arm away from Geoff as they approached Jack's office. Jack was a few steps behind them, following quietly and shaking her head. Geoff offered Ryan one of the chairs in the office and Ryan declined.

 

"Why am I still here, Geoff?" Ryan sighed. "You can't care enough about me to still want to deal with me. I'm the reason Ray is gone. Just let me go, and I'll leave Los Santos for good. I can find work anywhere, Liberty City, Alderney, Seattle... You can get Ray back and I'll be out of your hair."

 

"If you really want to leave, I can't stop you," Geoff said. "You know why you're still here. Because you're family and we care about you. Yeah, Ray's gone and that's too bad, but he'll come back when he's ready."

 

"Even Meg won't talk to me," Ryan said. "I don't belong here."

 

"You are one of the most powerful people in the crew. I cannot physically stop you from doing anything you want," Geoff said. "You have the second fastest respawn and the highest pain tolerance of anyone here. Yes, you are currently a burden on the rest of the crew, but we decided we want you here. You're one of our greatest assets too."

 

"If you need to go on a bender to get it out of your system, do it. Go out tonight, kill as many people as you want. Kill me, kill all of us. I don't care," Jack said. "If we need to bench you again so that you can get your fucking shit together, then I'm fine with that too. Whatever you want, Ryan. I'm tired of dealing with your shit."

 

"Can I get my guns back?" Ryan asked. Jack shook her head no. "My knives? Anything?"

 

"No," Jack said. "I can't stop you from going out, but I'm not going to cater to it. If Jeremy or Michael will let you borrow theirs, I can't stop them."

 

Even this version of Ryan wasn't stupid enough to think there wouldn't be consequences. He shut his mouth with a nasty look and crossed his arms.

 

"I can't stop you, I won't be mad. We made you quit cold turkey, and that's not good for anyone," Geoff said.

 

"I'm not quitting smoking," Ryan rolled his eyes. "I get it, don't kill people."

 

"If you want a job stirring up trouble for immortals, it's an easy job, I was going to have Michael take it, but I can have Lindsay move some things around," Geoff said. There was a quiet knock on the door.

 

"It's me," came Michael's voice as he pushed the door open.

 

"I don't want to just give up, I know I'm doing pretty okay with it," Ryan said.

 

"Immortals are different, they don't stay dead," Geoff said. "It's work I need done, and unless you're really set on it, you probably aren't gonna not shoot anyone ever again."

 

"Probably not," Ryan agreed.

 

"You can kill me if you want to," Michael said, offering Ryan his pistol.

 

"Michael," Jack said, disapprovingly.

 

"Why fucking not? He wants to do it, I don't give a fuck, my respawn is only 15 minutes, why the fuck not?" Michael asked. Ryan shook his head. "Shoot me or I'll shoot her." Michael turned his gun on Jack, who didn't even flinch. Ryan shook his head again, and Michael shrugged, cocking his pistol. Ryan had it out of his hand and had shot Michael right in the heart before anyone else could react. Jack rolled her eyes as Michael slumped to the floor. Geoff checked his watch.

 

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Ryan said, almost horrified with himself, and handed her the pistol. "I'll clean up the mess, that was my bad." Jack took the pistol with a shrug and wordlessly left her office.

 

"So you want that job or no?" Geoff asked.

 

*

 

Ryan took the job. Far from being sated, he felt worse and worse after each job he took. Gavin planned a trip to visit Ray. Ryan wanted to say something, to apologize to Ray, beg him to come back, but everyone was right. He couldn't be trusted. Even Gavin barely talked to Ryan now.

 

Instead, Ryan tried to schedule a time he could be alone with Meg (not easy with Gavin always so suspicious of him). He needed to talk to her about a lot of things, the least of which was her opinion on his murder break.

 

"Honestly, Ryan, nothing you do surprises me anymore," Meg sighed. She was trying to work, not crew work, her own modeling work that she did on the side. It took up most of her time these days.

 

"But do you think I should have stuck with it?" Ryan asked.

 

"Was it helping?" Meg asked.

 

"Maybe? I don't know. It's hard to tell," Ryan said.

 

"You seem normal to me, Ry," Meg said, "whatever that means these days."

 

"I don't want to be normal for Ryan. I want to be normal for everyone," Ryan said.

 

"That is never gonna happen," Meg replied.

 

"And we should finalize our divorce," Ryan continued.

 

"Agreed," Meg said as though he'd asked her opinion on beverage selection.

 

"I want you to be happy with Gavin," Ryan said. "And if that means getting married, then you should."

 

"Thanks," Meg said. "It's...uh... It's actually ... It's complicated. I'm not sure if we're considering marriage anymore."

 

"Everything alright?" Ryan asked, concerned.

 

"Yeah! Of course!! But ever since we added Michael and Lindsay to the equation, it's just something else we have to figure out," Meg said. Ryan frowned, trying to wrap his head around this statement. "I hadn't told you about that, had I?" She laughed nervously. "It's been a few months now, actually, and it's going a lot better than we all expected. Michael and Gavin really are completely in love with each other, it's adorable." This was far more information than Ryan had ever wanted. Whatever Michael and Gavin wanted to do with each other was fine, but they needed to keep it as far away from Ryan as humanly possible.  (Not in a homophobic way, it wasn’t a gay thing, it was a Michael and Gavin thing.)

 

"Not including...whatever that means..." Ryan said slowly, "are you alright?"

 

"Of course," Meg said.

 

"Are you mad at me?" Ryan asked.

 

"No more so than usual," Meg replied. Ryan frowned.

 

"What?"

 

"Ray deserved better," Meg said. "I told him he could trust you, and it turned out he couldn't. You and your bullshit coping method of killing every living thing you see don't have a place in my life anymore. That's just how it is."

 

"I fucked up with Ray. I shouldn't have left the house that morning, and you know I'm trying to get better. It's hard! It took me five years and a split personality to figure this shit out the first time," Ryan said.

 

"And, what, you're going to go on a several-month murder spree every fucking time you die for the rest of eternity?" Meg asked. "You need to grow up."

 

"I do need to grow up," Ryan agreed. "That's what I was trying to do with Ray."

 

"Dating someone a solid nine years your junior is your idea of growing up?" Meg asked.

 

"He's mature. Ish," Ryan argued. Meg gave him a Look. "Okay so he isn't. But I really fuckin fell for him. Sue me."

 

"I like Ray a lot, Gavin loves him, of course, even Michael was coming around on him before he left," Meg said, "and I stand by what I said months ago: he was really good for you. You seemed so human when you were with him."

 

"I miss him," Ryan said. "I wish I could just talk to him."

 

"What would you say?" Meg asked.

 

"Apologize. Beg for his forgiveness. Promise him anything he wanted if he'd just talk to me," Ryan said.

 

"Hold onto that feeling," Meg said. "That is being human. You need all the help you can get."

 

"Do you think he will come back?" Ryan asked.

 

"I did. Eventually," Meg said.

 

"But it was over between us," Ryan said. "I don't want it to be over with Ray."

 

"I only came back because I had debts I needed to pay," Meg reminded him. "Ray is a Ramsey boy, he has more than enough cash to live comfortably for decades."

 

"Should I... find him?" Ryan asked.

 

"No?? He'll come back when he's ready," Meg said. "You need to focus on yourself and stop being so worried about other people."

 

**

 

“Alright, the most important thing about the rocket bikes is that you do _not_ , under any circumstances, hit the boost while you’re pointed directly at a brick wall.  Or any wall,” Trevor started explaining.

 

“This seems unnecessarily complicated,” Jeremy complained.

 

“What happens if we do boost into a wall?” Gavin asked.

 

“You die,” Matt said.  “What the fuck else do you think would happen?”

 

“Iunno, maybe it would break the bike or summat,” Gavin frowned.

 

“They’re fairly indestructible, but we haven’t been able to patch the issue where sometimes they catch on fire,” Trevor said vaguely.

 

“… The _Rocket Bikes_ catch on _FIRE_?” Michael asked.  “Boy, who woulda thought?”

 

“Right bumper to extend the wings, left stick to boost,” Ryan piped up.  “In order to recharge the boost, you just have to touch the ground for a second, but you can swoop back up again before you boost so you can boost in midair.”

 

“Like Mario's Cape?” Michael asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed.  “Only this is real life.”

 

“Three million dollars a pop and all you did was put a rocket on a motorcycle?” Geoff asked, skeptically.

 

“If you don’t want it, give it back,” Ryan said.

 

“No,” Geoff replied.

 

“Alright then,” Ryan said.

 

“Are you gonna tell him about the MOP?” Matt asked Trevor.  Trevor shook his head.

 

“Not finished yet,” Trevor said.

 

“A …mop…?” Geoff asked, puzzled.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Trevor said with a fake smile that wasn’t convincing Geoff of anything.  “We don’t need it for the heist.”

 

“That thing’s gonna make heists irrelevant,” Matt chuckled under his breath.  The MOP, or the Mobile Oppression Palace, was going to fuck the LSPD’s shit up someday, but Matt and Trevor had to put many, many more hours into it before it would be ready.

 

“Alright, fuck this noise,” Jack said, getting on her rocket bike.  “Wheeeee!!”   She hit the boost almost immediately and went flying into the air without a ramp.  Everyone else was so excited, they all got on their bikes immediately, except Jeremy, who wouldn’t even touch it.

 

“It’ll be fun, Jerem,” Matt promised.  “You’ll love it.”

 

“I’m so scared,” Jeremy admitted.  He was terrified of heights.  When the other Lads had found out, it had been a solid month of teasing, saying shit like ‘good thing you’re not any taller’.

 

“Don’t be,” Matt said, putting an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders.  The others were all either screaming (in Gavin’s case) or cheering as they rocketed around downtown.  “You can probably survive a crash.”

 

“I don’t want to die,” Jeremy said quietly, tucking his head into Matt’s chest as Matt hugged him fully.  Ryan, who was still standing there, and pretending to do something else, suddenly realized he didn’t know if Jeremy was immortal or what his respawn mechanic was like if he was.

 

He had to be immortal, though, didn't he? They all were. That was the whole idea. Jeremy healed very fast, even for an immortal. He'd never corrected anyone saying he was immortal. Maybe he was immortal but, like Ray, hated dying. It wasn't Ryan's business, but if Jeremy was lying about being immortal and got seriously hurt (or dead) on a heist, everyone was going to feel very guilty for a very long time. It was none of Ryan's business, but... was it?

 

"They can only hold one person," Matt continued quietly to Jeremy. "If you don't want to, you don't have to, but I think you'll have fun."

 

"C'mon, Matt, don't make him," Trevor chimed in.

 

"I'm not making him," Matt said.

 

Ryan felt wrong listening to this conversation, but they had to know he was still standing right there.

 

"I'll see you at home later, then, I guess," Matt said sadly, finally detached from Jeremy. Matt flung one leg over his bike and looked back at the other two. He grinned at them, then hit the boost and went flying.

 

"You're sure you don't want a flying motorcycle?" Trevor asked Jeremy.

 

"I'm very sure," Jeremy assured him.

 

"Alright, let's go home, I guess," Trevor said, taking Jeremy's hand. They started walking back down the street towards the penthouse.

 

Ryan felt like he should say something, but he’d never been good with words to begin with, and this whole bullshit was making him even worse.  Too often he felt as if he should just go back to full mask and communicating in one word answers.

**

 

Ryan hadn't realized this uncertainty about Jeremy was bothering him so much until Michael pointed out Ryan was antsier than usual during a pre-heist virtual run-through.

 

"You okay, man?" Michael asked.

 

"Yeah," Ryan said.

 

"You sure?" Michael asked, quietly enough that it wouldn't be picked up on the comms. Ryan reached up and turned his comm off. Intrigued, Michael followed suit.

 

"It's about Jeremy," Ryan said lowly. Michael cocked his head slightly and Ryan continued. "Is he... like us?"

 

"Excuse me?" Michael asked.

 

"Immortal," Ryan said. "Are we 100% certain he's immortal?" Michael hesitated. "He isn't?"

 

"He is," Michael said, not entirely convincingly.

 

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked.

 

"Yeah, of course," Michael said. "Why wouldn't he be?"

 

"Based on your hesitation alone, for starters," Ryan said.

 

"He is immortal," Michael insisted. "He heals almost as fast as you do."

 

"I know that, but it doesn't mean shit if we get into a situation I can't get him out of alive," Ryan said. "Geoff needs to let me carry. Just as an emergency. Jeremy's not ready, he's still too green."

 

"Geoff and Jack have decided he is," Michael said. "And we both know what you would do if you had a weapon."

 

"I have to protect him," Ryan replied, getting angry.

 

"He can protect himself," Michael replied, keeping his entire cool.

 

"But-"

 

"Don't turn this into some hero complex or some _thing_ about Ray. Jeremy is ready for this. He's your Battle Buddy," Michael said. "If it comes down to it, and we are all wrong, I trust you to protect him with your life."

 

"You do?" Ryan asked.

 

"Are you saying you wouldn't step in front of a bullet or jump on a grenade for Lil J?" Michael asked.

 

"A regular one, sure, not the anti-immortal tech we're dealing with," Ryan said.

 

"You said the new Kevlar would protect us," Michael said.

 

"And I hope it will," Ryan said hotly, "but I don't know what kind of tech we're even dealing with!"

 

"Are you going to get us all killed?" Michael asked.

 

"As soon as Gavin and Trevor breach the mainframe, they'll send the info to Matt that will be processed through the code Trevor wrote to start working on an antidote to whatever they may be throwing at us," Ryan said. "Whatever they have, I'm 96% sure it will not be strong enough to down you or me, and probably not Jack or Geoff either. Jeremy maybe. It's the Twinks I'm worried about."

 

"What you mean is, you'd never let Ray within a mile of that place," Michael corrected him. Ryan glared at him, a glare stern enough to down a mortal man. Michael was unfazed.

 

"Stop making this about him," Ryan said.

 

"Everything is about him!!" Michael almost yelled, throwing their previously hushed conversation out the window. "Stop pretending everything you do isn't from fucking guilt over what you did to him. You think we all don't want him home as much as you do? You have to get over your goddamn self before that has a chance of happening. If you think for one second that he is going to come waltzing back into town, still head over heels in love with you and willing to pick up where you left off without a fucking million dollar apology, you're fucking crazier than we all thought. If he comes back to Los Santos, we'll all be lucky, and if he decides to take you back, you'll be the goddamn luckiest one of all of us. He was never the one that needed protection. You are." Michael turned away from Ryan and stalked over to where Geoff and Jack were evaluating the results of the drill, turning his earpiece back on as he did so.

 

*

 

The heist came much faster than anyone expected. The five days of absolute crew shutdown went by too fast, and Gavin was back from his 'vacation' the afternoon before heist day. Everyone knew he had been to see Ray, but Gavin would still deny it if anyone asked.

 

The heist was set for 5:30pm, a time that had been thoroughly researched by both the Battle Buddies and the B-team recon experts. As usual, the B-team was on standby, in case they were needed.  As usual, that meant next to nothing.

 

"Are you ready, Twinks?" Michael asked. Gavin huffed, but nodded.

 

"Yeah, as I'll ever be," Trevor said, adjusting the super light body armor he was wearing. Anything more bulky wouldn't fit through the vents. "I've gotta say, I'm not thrilled with this plan."

 

"Five minutes before go time is not the right time to bring that up," Michael told him. "I know this is your first heist with the big boys, but don't be a fuckin moron."

 

"The plan is fine," Gavin said. "I just don't understand why it has to be us."

 

"I'm not hauling my fat ass through there, that's for sure," Jack retorted.

 

"You're the two smallest in the crew besides, like, Meg and Caiti. You want Meg and Caiti to go? I bet they will. They're not pussies," Michael said. Gavin didn't reply, just looked sourly at Michael. "Should I call them? Are you pussying out?"

 

"Griff's itching to go if you want to trade," Geoff told Gavin.

 

"No, I'm going," Gavin said.

 

"You sure? I can have Griff down here in five minutes. She'd love to be a twink," Geoff said. Gavin shook his head. "Trevor? You need a sub? We can probably get Chad over here.  He’s kinda twinky."  Over their comms from AH Labs, Chad cracked up.

 

"No sir," Trevor said.

 

"Alright then, let's cut the bullshit and get this done," Geoff said. "You change the stakes on one heist and suddenly everyone is scared off their tits."

 

"You've got the new armor, it's easy for you," Gavin protested.

 

"Right, running directly into oncoming anti-immortal bullets. Easy," Geoff said, rolling his eyes. "I don't want to hear any more whining from you tonight."

 

"You got it, Daddio," Trevor said, throwing double finger guns at Geoff. Geoff stared at him. Trevor did not seem embarrassed.

 

"Prepare your anuses, boys and girls, it's time," Michael announced. There was a sad silence where they would have usually heard Ray give some kind of 'jokes on you, my anus has been prepared for days' joke.

 

"Everyone check their comm is functioning on all channels," Matt said. All ten of them quickly cycled through each of the three channels, syncing (one, two, three, one, two, three). "Alright, let's do this."

 

Everything was fine for about five minutes. Matt and Alfredo used one of the sub-channels of their new earpieces to direct the Twinks into the facility. Trevor and Gavin dropped down in the security room and took out the two people there with relative ease. From there, everything went to hell.

 

"Gav, you just have to take out the cameras. Shut down the power. Shut it all off," Michael told him.

 

"I can't bloody shut it off until we have the information, you know that," Gavin seethed, typing at the speed of light. "I'm not a fucking hacker, Michael, give me a minute."

 

"Time is ticking," Michael said.

 

"Shut up!!" Gavin screamed.

 

"Hostiles incoming," Alfredo announced. This only proceeded to piss Gavin off more.

 

"Gavin, give the keyboard to Trevor and take point," Michael directed.

 

"I just need a flippin minute!" Gavin yelled again.

 

"Gavin," Michael growled.

 

Gavin slammed the keyboard away from himself and got up from the chair, trading places with Trevor. That's when things went from bad to worse.

 

Six armed guards rushed in, spraying the entire room with bullets. Their spray damaged the computer system in that room beyond repair, rendering Gavin and Trevor even still being there useless. Gavin managed to take out two of them, and the other four seemed to retreat into the hall.

 

"I'll see if I can get into their communication," Alfredo said.

 

"I still have cameras inside," Matt said.

 

"Are you two okay?" Michael called. "Twinks, report."

 

"Alive. Shot, but alive," Gavin reported.

 

"Fine," Trevor said, though his left arm was leaking blood heavily. "We need to get through them to another computer."

 

"I can guide you, but there's more incoming," Alfredo said.

 

"We can take them, don't worry about us," Trevor said, pulling his gun out of his armor and checking the clip as best he could with one working arm. "Ready, Gav?" Gavin nodded, grabbing one of the dead guards' automatic rifles and taking a look at it.

 

"These are regular bullets, that's lucky," Gavin said.

 

"We might not continue to be lucky," Trevor said, ripping one of the dead guards' shirts to try to hamper his arm's bleeding. Gavin helped him tie it up. "Should be fine soon. I hope?" Gavin nodded.

 

"They'll figure out they need different stuff when you're not dead in a minute," Matt said.

 

"Four outside the door," Alfredo said. "Two more headed from the west."

 

"How in the world am I supposed to know which way west is, Mr. Sauce? I'm inside!" Trevor asked.

 

"Look at your watch, idiot," Matt said.

 

"Give a kid a 25 thousand dollar watch and he doesn't even look at it," Ryan rolled his eyes.

 

Trevor and Gavin made quick work of the four guards in the hallway, and Alfredo directed them to a secondary computer station. Trevor managed to start the data transfer to Matt before more armed guards showed up with -

 

"Gas!" Alfredo shouted.

 

"And what am I supposed to do about that, Sauce Boy?" Trevor asked.

 

"Cover your face and get as much of that information out of there as you can," Geoff instructed. "Get the security turned off and the Buddies will come for you."

 

"Security has been breached," Gavin said as an alarm started to blare. "Bollocks."

 

"I'll get the alarm off," Matt said. "On guard, we've got lots incoming." Gavin and Trevor both left their keyboards, turning to the door with their guns raised. Gas was starting to leak in around the door.

 

"That gas might be slightly problematic," Alfredo said.

 

"Wot d'you mean slightly problematic?" Gavin replied.

 

"Uh... Don't worry about it," Matt said, quickly scanning through the readings Alfredo was getting. "And also try not to breathe too much of it in."

 

"That worries me," Trevor said, eyeing the gas slowly seeping in warily.

 

"Wouldn't I tell you if you had something to worry about?" Matt asked.

 

"Maybe," Trevor said suspiciously.

 

"Dude, Team Same Same," Alfredo said. "You're fine."

 

"They're lying to us so hard," Trevor said to Gavin.

 

"There, the system's down. Buddies are a go," Matt announced.

 

"We're coming for you, Gav," Michael said. He and Jack broke into a run, headed for the front entrance of the facility.

 

"And Trevor," Trevor added.

 

"And Trevor," Lindsay agreed. She and Geoff were approaching the back more stealthily.

 

The guards attacking Gavin and Trevor finally started pouring into the room that they'd quarantined themselves in, and Gavin and Trevor downed a good number of them, despite their riot gear. Gavin started coughing quickly, not trusting the gas masks from their dead enemies.

 

“They’re on the second floor, northeast corner,” Alfredo told the buddies.

 

“There’s a royal shitfuck of guards down here,” Michael replied.  “We’ll be… FUCK!”  He stopped talking and continued focusing on shooting.  He and Jack were obviously over qualified, but hadn’t worked together much and kept crossing in front of each other.  Michael regretted ever planning this heist, and especially pairing everyone off into buddies just to make the twinks joke.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Lindsay and Geoff rounding a corner near them where they thought stairs were.  Behind him, Jack didn’t dodge in time and had a bullet graze her arm.  She responded with even more violence and all the soldiers around them dropped within the minute.

 

“You okay?” Michael asked Jack. She nodded, rolling her shoulders out.

 

“Should’ve stretched,” she said.  Michael laughed and they headed to the stairs.

 

They didn’t need their comms to hear Lindsay scream.  Michael’s heart started beating faster than it ever had before and he froze to the spot.  Jack shot a look at him, then started sprinting towards the sound, forgetting there was gas everywhere on the second level.

 

It was hard to hear anything over the sound of everyone coughing over the comms.

 

“Where is she?” Michael demanded of Geoff.  Geoff was standing, coughing into his sleeve, staring at a small pool of blood on the floor, four dead guards beside him.

 

“She’s gone,” Geoff said quietly.  Michael could feel himself getting angry.  He hadn’t had The Rage in what felt like years now, but he was about to go full fucking Mogar ‘The Situation’ ‘Rage Quit’ Jones on this place.

 

“We have to find Gavin and Trevor,” Jack reminded Michael.

 

“You two find the Twinks.  I’ve got some shit to do,” Michael said, heading back to the stairs.  Geoff and Jack continued towards where Trevor and Gavin were still trapped in as guards kept coming.

 

“I can’t breathe,” Gavin said, coughing and retching violently.  “I – I can’t… Michael – Micoo – where are you?”

 

“Geoff and Jack are gonna get you out of there,” Michael said, and Gavin could hear the sound of Michael’s minigun revving up.  “Don’t worry, boi.”

 

“They’re not going to get here in time,” Trevor said to Gavin.  “We have to make a break for it.”

 

“We’re on our way!” Jack shouted, but gunshots were clear as day through the comms.

 

“I’ll go first,” Gavin coughed.  Trevor briefly looked like he was going to protest this, but didn’t.  Gavin picked up one of the shields off the dead guards on the floor and started pushing his way out of the room.

 

“Be careful,” Trevor choked out. 

 

“Fredo, which way is it?” Gavin asked.

 

“Uhh….” Alfredo hesitated.  “All ways are bad.  Geoff and Jack are south of you.”

 

“South…” Gavin said, looking at his watch.  “I don’t… Treycs, I…”  He couldn’t see.  Everything was going blurry.  He could only faintly hear the others shouting for him before he hit the floor.

 

“Guys, Gavin passed out,” Trevor informed them.  “He’s… oh, he’s gone.  Never mind, he’s dead.”

 

“God _DAMMIT_!” Michael yelled.  He was upstairs, breaking shit.  He knew he could brave the gas and get them all out of there, but it was more important that he break all the shit.  “Battle Buddies, get in here and start wrecking shit.  Almost everyone’s dead now anyway.”  Ryan and Jeremy took off running towards the building.

 

“Few more on the second–” Jack began, but an explosion cut her off.

 

“Report!” Matt yelled.

 

“I’m okay,” Jack said.  “But that looks bad.”

 

“Also alive,” Geoff said, his breathing uneven.  The gas was starting to get to him.  “Is that… acid?”

 

“Uh…” Alfredo said, checking his readings.  “It might be.  It could be anti-immortal acid.  It could be that.”

 

“Do not get near that,” Matt said quickly, and they could hear him typing quickly.

 

“Ooh,” Chad chimed in after being quiet for a long time.  “That is definitely anti-immortal acid.  Yeah, definitely run as far away from that as possible.”

 

“We have to get Trevor,” Jack said.

 

“I’m fine, really,” Trevor said.

 

“There’s acid down here too,” Ryan reported.

 

“Do not touch the acid, repeat, do not touch the acid,” Matt practically yelled.

 

“You want us to retreat?” Geoff asked, backing slowly away from the acid.

 

“Yes, retreat!” Michael screamed.  “Get out of here before anyone else gets hurt!”  Geoff and Jack turned tail and ran as fast as they could out of the facility.  Michael was still shooting up the third floor, setting up for complete demo as soon as they figured out how to get Trevor out of there.

 

“Battle Buddies, report,” Matt instructed.

 

“It’s gassy and acid-y and Jeremy’s comm broke,” Ryan reported.

 

“I’m fine,” Jeremy insisted, though no one but Ryan heard him.  Ryan could barely see him, the gas was getting so thick as they tried to find the stairs to the second floor.  There was a second explosion, nothing to do with Michael’s demo set-up, but it caused acid to start raining from the sprinkler system all around the facility, and triggered some of the bombs Michael had set.  The third floor sagged and threatened to fall into the second.  Michael pulled a face, trying to decide what to do about that.

 

“Get out of there!” Geoff advised.  “Michael, come on, get out of there!”

 

“There’s no acid up here yet, I’m fine,” Michael replied.

 

“Michael, as your boss, I am telling you, you need to get  the fuck out of there,” Geoff said.

 

“There’s no way we can get up to Trevor,” Ryan reported.  “You’re going to have to get him out, Michael.”

 

“I had a good life,” Trevor said faintly.  “I’ll be fine, honestly.”

 

“I’m not losing you,” Matt said angrily. 

 

“I can’t get down, the whole third floor is going to collapse on top of him,” Michael said.  “I’m going out the window.”

 

“I’m getting him,” Jeremy said, dashing for the stairs despite the acid and gas and every other reason not to.

 

“Don’t be a hero, Jeremy!” Ryan screamed as Jeremy took off.

 

“Save yourself, Ryan!” Jeremy shouted back, voice fading as he sprinted away.  “You’ve got more to lose than I do.”

 

That wasn’t even… true.  Was it?  Ryan couldn’t really think.  The gas pouring off the acid was starting to cloud his senses, he really needed to get out of there and quick, but he couldn’t leave Lil J behind.  Geoff and Jack were screaming in his ears for him and Michael to get out, but Ryan couldn’t let Jeremy get hit with any of that stuff.  If Michael could take it, Ryan could too.  But Jeremy?  Lil J?  Ryan could still hear coughing over the comms, and it could have been anyone, but it was probably Trevor.  How had one heist gone so poorly so quickly?

"Ryan, you have to get out of there!" Michael's voice cut through the fog urgently. "Ryan, leave him! Run!"

 

"I can't leave him!" Ryan coughed.

 

"He will be fine, you're in a lot more danger," Michael said. "Get out here, I'll explain on the fly." Against his better judgment, Ryan turned to leave.

 

"If you drop, and you're still being affected by that shit when you respawn, you're going to have a whole bunch of new problems," Matt summarized. "The guys with longer respawn times are actually a lot safer."

 

"Is Jeremy going to be able to get out?" Ryan asked.

 

"He better," Matt said. "If he dies, I'll kill him. Trevor too."

 

"Really, I'm fine," Trevor's voice floated to them over the comms, though he didn't sound fine, and sounded more high than anything. Michael rolled his eyes. In the distance, he saw Ryan breach the fog surrounding the facility.

 

"You're not fine," Matt said harshly.

 

"Really," Trevor insisted. "It's all really fine in here."

 

Michael grimaced as Ryan came to stand, agitated, next to him and Geoff in the clear zone.

 

"Where's Jack?" Ryan asked.

 

"She went to wait for Gavin and Lindsay to respawn," Geoff said.

 

"They should be alright, it won't be the first time displaced respawns have worked in our favor," Michael said. "They'll need antidotes and medical attention, but our number one priority right now is Trevor."

 

"Jeremy and Alfredo will get him out," Geoff assured them. "I've never had more confidence in them."

 

"But Jeremy-" Ryan began, concerned.

 

"Will be fine," Geoff said. Ryan eyed him suspiciously. Michael wouldn't meet Ryan's gaze.

 

"Y’all know something I don't?" Ryan asked.

 

"Jeremy... is immortal, but not yet," Michael finally said. "He's not anywhere near as affected as the three of us."

 

"How does he know that? How can anyone know that?" Ryan asked.

 

"There was an experimental research group at one time that could predict with decently accurate results when an immortal was essentially waiting to happen," Matt chimed in. "It's been shut down for obvious reasons."

 

"Like the only way to know for sure was to kill the test subjects, and that's not exactly ethical," Michael said.

 

"Jeremy was part of one of those groups," Geoff finished. "He is aware of the inevitability, and he is fine with it." Ryan sighed out a long breath and looked back at the facility that was still threatening to go up in a mushroom cloud at any second.

 

"If he dies in there, will that stuff kill him?" Ryan asked. Geoff and Michael shook their heads.

 

"First respawns are long as shit," Matt reminded him. "He'll be fine as long as we get him out before he respawns."

 

"Are you guys talking about me?" Jeremy's smug voice crackled through their comms despite the fact his comm had malfunctioned very early on.

 

"Jeremy?!" Matt exclaimed.

 

"I found Trevor, and we're on our way out the back," Jeremy announced.

 

"No good, the back is going to collapse," Alfredo interjected.

 

"The whole damn thing's gonna collapse whether we're in here or not, and I'd prefer not!" Jeremy retorted. "It's the fastest, and I'm risking it."

 

There was a small explosion, both in their earpieces and in real life, as they saw part of the building collapse.

 

"What was that?" Geoff asked.

 

"Preliminary reports suggest that the structure has suffered a collapse," Alfredo replied. A frustrated roar from Jeremy.

 

"We'll get you out, Jerem," Matt said, maintaining his cool, though he couldn't have been as chill as he sounded. Not with his boyfriend (?) in that mess. Michael swiped open his phone to answer a call with a sigh of relief.

 

"Lindsay," he said. "Wait, slow down. What?" Ryan and Geoff looked at him in concern. Michael bit his lip nervously. "Okay, okay, I'm coming to get you right now. I'll call Jack on the way." He started sprinting away, texting his mechanic for delivery on one of his many supercars.

 

"Everything alright?" Geoff called after him, though their comms were still active.

 

"Linz needs an antidote bad, I'm taking her to AH Labs," Michael announced. "I'll call Jack on the way. If she's in this bad shape, no way is Gavin okay."

 

"Team Rescue Mission switching to audio channel 2 to reduce feedback," Alfredo announced. Just like earlier in the mission, everyone on the open channel could still hear them as they continued working Jeremy and Trevor out of the building, but wouldn't be interrupted by Michael, Geoff, and Ryan's continued conversation.

 

"Jack," came Michael's voice in their ears. "Jack, report."

 

"Still waiting for Gavin," Jack said softly.

 

"Bring him up to the penthouse when he respawns, get him in the shower, and start force feeding him fluids - preferably water," Michael said. "If he's anywhere near as bad as Lindsay, we'll need to flush his system of that shit as quickly as possible."

 

"Do we know if it's contagious?" Jack asked.

 

"I have no idea, Jack, I'm sorry," Michael said. "I can't even feel it, it filters out of my system too fast."

 

"Take care of yourself," Geoff told her. "Please. For me."

 

"Geoff," Ryan said suddenly. Geoff looked at him. "Is Griff at the penthouse?" He nodded slowly, thinking.

 

"Jack, call Griff and just let her know what's going on. Give her the option to evacuate," Geoff told Jack.

 

"She won't. Not where Gavin's concerned," Jack replied.

 

"Give her the option," Geoff repeated. "She should know what she's getting into."

 

"Hey guys, me again," Michael voice crackled through whatever Jack was saying. "Meg's gonna meet you two at the penthouse with the shit as soon as she can."

 

"You can't put her in that situation," Ryan growled.

 

"I can and I will. She's part of the crew, same as any of us, and any way it falls, you lost the right to give any fucks about her or her well-being the goddamn FIRST time you killed her. So kindly shut the FUCK up and stop trying to keep Meg under your stupid thumb. In fact, you can fuck right off and stop trying to ruin Ray's and Jeremy's lives while you're at it!" Michael exploded.

 

Seconds passed in silence. Geoff stared at Ryan, not wanting to react in any way that would make Ryan violent toward him. Quieted sounds of Matt and Alfredo directed Jeremy around the collapsing and now on fire building didn't quite cut through the tension. Finally -

 

"Gavin's back," Jack said, and it was back to business.

 

"How is he?" Michael and Geoff asked at the same time.

 

"He's feeling it," Jack reported.

 

"Meg will be there with experimental antidotes as soon as she can," Michael assured her.

 

"Switching back to push-to-talk," Jack announced.

 

"Same," Michael said.

 

"Same," Ryan agreed. Geoff reached up to switch his as well. There was a lull in general conversation, but Ryan felt as though Geoff was going to give it to him.

 

"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, what am I going to do with you?" Geoff sighed.

 

"I don't know," Ryan replied honestly. He wouldn't describe himself as scared, but he was definitely apprehensive.

 

"You can't let yourself get worked up like this," Geoff said. "You can't let Michael get to you. So what, he's macking on your girl. She's your fucking ex-wife. Most people don't even talk to theirs."

 

"He's- excuse me?" Ryan asked. "Macking? On Meg?"

 

"You didn't know about that," Geoff said. "Right. Fuck."

 

"Michael!" Ryan yelled, turning his earpiece back to full functionality.

 

"Little fuckin busy at the moment," Michael replied. Ryan roared in frustration. "What the fuck is the matter now?"

 

"What's going on with you and Meg?" Ryan yelled and Geoff winced at the feedback before reaching up to adjust the volume on his earpiece.

 

"Jesus Christ, I don't have time for this right now," Michael said. His eye roll was practically audible. "You want the short version?" Ryan just stewed. "I guess that's a yes: my girl, my boi, his girl, and myself often find ourselves canoodled together in our off time. Which a) is none of your business and b) is none of anyone else's business. Are you happy? Is this conversation really worth delaying this stage of the heist with?"

 

"No, I guess you're right," Ryan said, still mad, but switching his comm back to push-to-talk.

 

"Michael, I'm sorry," Geoff offered quietly.

 

"Just stay off the fucking comms unless you have something important to say," Michael threw back, and then there was silence again. He added a quieter, "I'll let you put another bullet in me later," and then there was silence again.

 

There was really nothing to do besides wait.

 

"We should probably take antidotes too," Geoff said to Ryan, hoping to spark a conversation, but Ryan merely nodded, even though he had no plans of doing so.

 

Torturous minutes passed. Jeremy and Trevor slowly crept closer to safety, building ablaze and collapsing around them. Michael gave antidote to Lindsay, and sent some for Gavin. He was hesitant to leave Lindsay alone or move her, but Trevor and Jeremy would need antidote the second they escaped the building. Against Michael's better judgment, he left Lindsay with Chad and Andy Blanchard at AH Labs. Andy was a member of the B-team, and could certainly be trusted with a semi-conscious Lindsay. He kept them updated on how the antidote was working, which seemed to be as planned but then-

 

"Michael!" came Andy's panicked voice.

 

"What?" Michael responded.

 

"She's getting worse. I think - I think it's getting worse!" Andy continued panicking.

 

"I'm coming back," Michael said. "Jack, if you haven't given that shit to Gavin yet, don't!"

 

"I just did..." was Jack's reply.

 

"Fuck," Michael swore quietly. "Don't give him any more until we figure this out."

 

"Heard," Jack replied.

 

"Does anyone smarter than me want to help?" Michael asked.

 

"On my way," Ryan said, taking his cell phone from his pocket and calling for his Zentorno. AH Labs was maybe 20 minutes across the city, Ryan was there in 6.

 

"We got the wrong readout from their computers," Chad said. "The antidotes are making it worse.  I don’t know what to–”

 

"We'll fix it," Ryan said, picking up the printed readouts and the information about the antidote. "Trevor's fuckin sciencey as shit, too bad he's still trapped in that hellhole."

 

"The code he wrote is solid, it just fed it the wrong information. The best we can do at this point is test Lindsay for foreign substances and feed it through the code," Chad said.

 

"Does that mean we get to use the Mass Spectrometer?" Andy asked, excited.

 

"Andy, how did you learn that word?" Michael asked, concerned.  No specific answer to this question was ever given as Chad and Ryan got to work trying to come up with a better antidote.

 

Time seemed to pass in flashes.  Michael had no idea what was going on.  He didn’t understand the science.  He went to public school.  He didn’t have an education high enough to qualify him to understand what Ryan and Chad were doing.  Lindsay was passed out, still alive, but unconscious.  The updates they got from Jack about Gavin seemed to be that he was faring the same.  The only slight saving grace was that it didn’t seem to be contagious, as Jack was not showing any symptoms besides the occasional cough from being in the building with the gas.

 

Geoff waited at the building for Jeremy and Trevor.  He truly believed that the four newest members of his crew were completely capable of this.  He definitely trusted them more than he trusted Chad to be making their antidotes, but he wasn’t about to argue.  It was always nice to not have to kick other crew’s asses every other week.

 

“C’mon, Trevor, you gotta–” Jeremy murmured, almost too quiet for the comms to pick it up.  More coughing followed this statement.  A crash from Jeremy’s comm, he’d shattered a window.  “Is anyone – Is anyone still out there?”

 

“I’m here,” Geoff replied, turning on his mic.  “What do you need?”

 

“Trevor’s unconscious, I need someone to pick him up,” Jeremy said, coughing.  “This is it for me, I think.”

 

“No, I can get Michael back in here to get you out,” Geoff said.  “Don’t – don’t go out like this.”  He ran as close as he could to the building, looking for the window Jeremy was posted up at.

 

“Michael would be screwed in here and you know it,” Jeremy coughed.  He dry heaved for a moment, then recovered.  “Do you see us?”

 

“Jeremy,” Matt said seriously.

 

“I expect you to be at my bedside when I wake up,” Jeremy told Matt.

 

“Of course,” Matt replied.  Alfredo was maintaining radio silence for this tender moment.

 

“Geoff, do you see me?” Jeremy asked.  Between the gas, the flames, and the smoke, Geoff could barely make out Jeremy on the second floor.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah,” Geoff said, starting to cough as he neared the building.  Jeremy used most of his remaining strength to hoist Trevor’s unconscious body through the window.  He’d tied a rope around him, and tried to let him down to the ground easy.  “I’ve got him.  I’ve got him,” Geoff said, fingers fumbling as he tried to untie the rope, before just giving up and cutting it.

 

“Get him out of here,” Jeremy said.  It sounded like he was taking his dying breaths.  Matt muttered something about turning his mic off, probably so no one could hear him breaking down.  Geoff dragged Trevor’s body to the safe zone.  Jeremy was right, he was alive, but unconscious.  “Matt…”

 

“Yeah?” came Matt’s broken voice after a moment.

 

“Fuck it, you know,” Jeremy said after a pause.  Geoff turned around in time to see Jeremy sort of fall out of the window and crumple to the ground.

 

“I got him,” Geoff said to anyone who was still listening, which at this point, might have only been Matt Bragg, and heading back to the building to drag Jeremy to the safe zone as well.

 

“Thanks,” Matt choked out.  “I’m signing off, Geoff.”

 

“Don’t drive yourself home,” Geoff said.  “You’re distraught and I don’t need you crashing.”  Matt didn’t reply.  “Alfredo?”

 

“Yes, sir?” Alfredo asked.

 

“Pick up Matt Bragg from his office, take him to the penthouse,” Geoff instructed. 

 

“Yes, sir,” Alfredo responded.

 

“Michael?” Geoff asked.  “Michael Jones.”

 

“Geoff?” Michael replied after a moment.  “What’s up?  We’ve been on channel 3, sorry.  Didn’t want to interrupt.”

 

“I need your help, or Ryan’s.  Whoever isn’t busy,” Geoff said.

 

“Uh…” Michael said.  “It’s not something the B-Team can help with?”

 

“I don’t want to expose anyone who hasn’t been already,” Geoff said.

 

“I’ll be there,” Michael replied.  He switched his comm back to push to talk and looked around AH Labs.  Lindsay was passed out on the table in front of him, and it wasn’t the first time he wished they had a crew medic.  She had a pulse, very weak, and none of them knew how she’d be when she finally did wake up.  Chad and Ryan were trying to make sense of the science.  Andy was pacing the other side of the room.  “Andy.”  Andy didn’t hear him.  “Andy, please!”  Andy ran over.  “I have to go.  Watch her.  If she wakes up, tell her I love her.  If she doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

 

“Got it,” Andy nodded.  Michael tore out of the building and jumped in his Adder.  He made the trip back to the site in minutes.

 

“Michael,” Geoff greeted him as he pulled up.  “What do you have left for explosives?”

 

“The usual,” Michael said, popping the trunk on his car to reveal his personal armory.  “Why?”

 

“I want this building leveled,” Geoff said.  “What do you have for incendiary?”  Michael pulled out a few.  The fire would burn off all the acid into gas at the very least.  “Got anything like a gas mask?”  Michael frowned, digging around, and pulled one out.

 

“Only have one,” Michael said.

 

“All I need,” Geoff said, taking it and putting it on before grabbing the bombs and walking with purpose towards the building.

 

“Geoff, I swear to fucking god, I can’t lose you too!” Michael shouted after him.  Geoff waved him off.  Geoff disappeared from Michael’s view, and Michael sat on the ground next to the still-unconscious Trevor and very dead Jeremy.

 

“Sorry, Lil J,” Michael said softly.  “If you’re ghosting, I guess you can hear me.  If you’re not, thank god, because ghosting is fucking awful, apparently.  According to Ray.  I’m not good at heist planning.  I can’t get everyone out alive.  It should have been me instead of you.  I shouldn’t have been such a wuss.  Suddenly there’s actual stakes, and I’m fifteen and cornered in an alley by four big guys on my way home from school.  You don’t get over it, your first death.  No one does.  I came to and I was tied up in a warehouse, it had to have been later that day.  They must have known I would come back.  They told me I owed them my life, they were the only reason I was alive, and I was stupid enough to believe it, even though they were the ones to kill me.  Said if I didn’t run jobs for them, they’d make sure something bad happened to me.  I was so fucking stupid.  Bunch of thugs doing dirty work in Jack’s name.  I’m glad Ryan gave them what they deserved.”

 

“Michael,” Jack’s voice came over the comms.  Michael jumped.  He hadn’t realized his mic was on.

 

“Uh… yeah?” Michael asked.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said.

 

“Dude, like, fuckin forget about it,” Michael brushed it off.  “Wasn’t your fault.”

 

"How many years of your life do I owe you?" Jack asked.

 

"None. Don't worry about it," Michael said. "Stop worrying about it. How's Gavin doing?"

 

"He's delirious," Jack replied. "Keeps asking for you. Meg's still here. Can't get her to leave him."

 

"I'll be there when I can," Michael said. "It's not bad enough that you should move him to AH Labs, is it?"

 

"No, I don't think so," Jack said. "As long as we can both get some real antidote soon, we should be fine."

 

"You too?" Michael asked.

 

"I guess I wasn't built as tough as you," Jack said, and Michael could tell she was trying to stay sane for them all.

 

"Geoff went back in," Michael told her.

 

"He did what? Is he crazy? You're gonna have to be the one to tell Griffon if he dies," Jack said.

 

"He's running demo," Michael said. "Jeremy's dead. Trevor's...not looking so hot."

 

"You should get them to AH Labs," Jack said.

 

"I can't leave while Geoff is still in there. If he drops, I have to go get him," Michael told her.

 

"Well...good luck, then," Jack said. Michael hummed an acknowledgement and the line went silent. In the distance, Michael could see the facility they'd already fucked up being reduced to rubble. He could hear bombs going off, and he was sure that if he was quiet, he could hear Geoff swearing.

 

"All in all, Lil J, you couldn't have gone out in a bigger blaze of glory," Michael told Jeremy's dead body. "You're a fuckin hero. Of course, whichever of these assholes you're dating is probably scared shitless right now. It can be scary, even if you know someone's immortal, waiting for their respawn. God, especially Gavin and Lindsay, they're displaced respawners, so you can't cry over their dead bodies. I really don't know why I'm still talking to you like you can hear me. Ghosting is super rare, there's no way two people in this crew ghost. If anything, Trevor's more likely to be hearing me."

 

Michael looked up and saw Geoff running back towards him slamming the button on his detonator as he did. The rest of the building went up in flames and collapsed, creating a wave of dust and flames that Geoff didn't manage to outrun. He got thrown in the air and landed 20 feet away. Michael, always the brick wall, especially when it came to explosions, let the wave wash over him like he was at the beach.

 

Geoff picked himself up, swearing about broken bones, and rejoined Michael.

 

"How'd it go?" Michael asked, cheerfully.

 

"Fucking awful, thanks for asking," Geoff replied. "Let's get these assholes out of here."

 

"To AH Labs?" Michael asked.

 

"You take Trevor to the lab. He needs antidotes as soon as they can come up with one," Geoff said. "I'm taking Jeremy home."

 

"Shouldn't he be at the lab?" Michael asked.

 

"He's dead. What are they going to do for him at the lab? He'll respawn when he's ready," Geoff said. "And if Matt Bragg doesn't get to cry at his bedside, what has this all been about?"

 

Michael agreed and they split ways. Back at AH Labs, Chad and Ryan were about to hit a break through. They had Lindsay as test subject zero, and as long as they didn't kill her, they could heck up as much as they wanted. That was the good thing about immortals, they were hardy.

 

"Is that it?" Michael asked as he dumped the still unconscious Trevor on a table with a bit more oomph than he'd intended.

 

"Hopefully," Ryan said. "What's wrong with TreyCo?"

 

"Do I look like a doctor?" Michael asked.

 

"Why don't you have a crew medic?" Chad asked.

 

"You think it's just every day that a crew of the 10 most powerful immortals in the city needs a medic?" Michael asked. Chad didn't know how to answer that.  Probably 10 most powerful immortals was an exaggeration.  Four, for sure.  They were all powerful in their own ways, but in terms of brute force, Michael, Ryan, Jeremy, and Geoff were unparalleled in Los Santos.  “He’s fucking unconscious.  Best guess?  Inhaling too much of that gas.”

 

“Get him on oxygen,” Ryan said, hastily crossing the room to see how many canisters of oxygen they had left.  “Need to flush his system.”  Chad found a mask while Ryan tested their canisters to see if any were still good.

 

“How’s Lindsay doing?” Michael asked.

 

“About the same,” Ryan told him.  “Where’s Jeremy?”

 

“Dead,” Michael said.  Ryan stopped what he was doing to stare at Michael.  Chad took over for him and got Trevor breathing the oxygen. 

 

“For real?” Ryan asked.  Michael nodded.  “And Geoff?”

 

“Took Jeremy’s body to the penthouse,” Michael said.  “Let’s just focus on helping our wounded, okay?” 

 

**

 

It took several hours, but they finally got Lindsay and Trevor to a point where they were conscious again.  Trevor was having trouble breathing, so they left him on the oxygen.  Lindsay, on the other hand, had suffered much worse.  The bullet she’d been shot with was experimental anti-immortal.  It didn’t quite work the way it was supposed to, but it was slowing her down quite a bit.  It had lodged in her back, very near her spinal column, and they had two options.  Try to take it out and risk paralyzing her, or leave it for now and remove it when she was more well.  Seeing as none of them were doctors, they decided to leave it.  And on top of all that, Lindsay kept repeating that she couldn’t see, even though her eyes were open.

 

“She’s blind,” Michael said, deadpan.  “My wife is blind.”

 

“Probably not permanently,” Chad said, in what he probably thought was a helpful manner.  “I’ll run some tests…”

 

“My wife is blind and it’s all my fault.  My fault and this dumb _shitty_ heist!  We should have just called an airstrike on the building and been done with it!” Michael yelled.  He kicked over a chair and stormed around the other side of the room.  “Jack!” he yelled, turning his comm back on.  “You better have some good fuckin news, cuz I’m sick of hearing bad shit.”

 

“Well… Jeremy’s on his way to a full recovery,” Jack said.  “Gavin’s coming off his fever.  The new antidote is working well.”

 

“Any complications with it?” Michael asked.

 

“Not yet.  I’ll keep you posted,” Jack said.  Michael screamed in frustration as he turned his mic off again, and threw a file box full of paper at the wall. 

 

“Hey,” Ryan said softly, cautiously approaching Michael, who looked like he might explode from pure unadulterated rage at any second.  “It’s not your fault.  You couldn’t have known.”

 

“I could have.  We could have done more research.  I don’t think we even accomplished what we were trying to do!” Michael seethed.

 

“No, we accomplished it.  They won’t be doing any more research from that facility,” Ryan said.  “We can’t even access their records at this point, which is what’s making finding a good antidote difficult.”

 

“I thought we were supposed to get a clean copy before we wrecked it?”

 

“My guess is they were a bit rushed.  We can ask Matt Bragg what happened later,” Ryan said.  “If you want to take Lindsay back to your place now, no one blames you.”  Michael nodded.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I will,” Michael said.  “I need – I need her and Gavin to be okay.”

 

“And they will be,” Ryan assured him.  “They’re still immortal.  It might be a bitch of a healing process, but as long as they’re alive, they’re healing.  Take all the time you need with them.  I’m sure Geoff will agree, we’re on shut down for the foreseeable future.”  Michael nodded again, trying to steady his breathing.

 

“Okay.  Okay,” Michael agreed.  “Sorry you had to find out about the four of us in the middle of all this.”

 

“It’s none of my business,” Ryan said.  “You’re right. It stopped being my business well over 6 years ago.  I don’t know who I was trying to kid with the whole elaborate cover story.  You don’t have anything to worry about on my account.”

 

Michael didn’t have anything to add to that, just kept nodding, and walked away from Ryan.

 

**

 

Ryan got back to the penthouse well after midnight, exhausted.  The only thing he’d truly cared about for at least two hours was going to bed, but there was still work to be done.  Truly, Chad James was a godsend.  Ryan had left Chad to finish up the work after he’d fallen asleep standing up for the second time.  Trevor had been moved back to the penthouse at some point during the night as well.

 

Ryan was surprised to find half the crew awake and in the living room when he got there.  Jack and Geoff were sharing an armchair.  Griffon was in another armchair, sipping what looked like hot cocoa.  The couch was empty except for Jack’s ginger cat sleeping on the back of it, so there didn’t appear to be any reason for them to be sharing one chair, but Ryan didn’t care enough to ask.

 

“Finished already?” Geoff joked as Ryan walked in.  Ryan combed his fingers through his hair and pulled his hair elastic out, so his hair fell out of its short ponytail.  He hadn’t gotten a haircut in months and it was just starting to be long enough to pull back.  Michael and Gavin teased him about it, but Jeremy thought it was cool, so he kept it.

 

“God, no,” Ryan replied.  “Chad’s still working.  I can’t stay awake any longer.”  Geoff nodded.  “Why are you out here and not in bed?”

 

“Someone decided to use our room as a recovery room for our fallen crew members,” Griffon said in such a manner that it seemed like she was not asked her opinion on the matter before it had happened.

 

“Apparently this means I also need to be punished,” Jack added.

 

“Jeremy awake yet?” Ryan asked.

 

“He fades in and out,” Jack said.  “First respawns are tough, and this one will be worse than most.  He’s a tough kid, though.” 

 

“Good,” Ryan said with a nod.  He’d probably check on them before he went to bed.

 

“You did good today, Ryebread,” Geoff said.  Ryan turned his head to look at Geoff, knowing his must have heard wrong.

 

“I… did?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah,” Geoff said.  “You did what had to be done, and that’s all we’re really looking for.”

 

“How long has it been?” Griffon asked.

 

“Eleven weeks,” Ryan said without asking for clarification on what she meant.  How long since his reset.  Was he really doing well, or was he finally catching up?

 

“Not bad,” Griffon said.

 

“Fucking awful,” Jack chimed in.

 

“Different strokes for different folks,” Griffon said.

 

“I’m impressed with your improvement,” Geoff told him.  Ryan yawned hugely.  “Get to bed, you crazy kid.”

 

“Charlie’s in your room, by the way,” Jack added.  “Just fyi.”

 

“Okay?” Ryan frowned, confused.

 

“We didn’t want her near Jeremy while he was out and she was not happy about it,” Griffon said.  Ryan nodded.  He left the room and walked all the way down the hall to where the door to Geoff and Griffon’s room was ajar, and the light was on.  Ryan knocked softly and pushed the door open a little bit further.

 

Jeremy was on the left side of the bed, on his back, looking still very out of it.  He had an IV in his arm that was hooked up to what Ryan assumed was a saline solution to keep him hydrated and help flush his system of the terrible gas and acid.  Trevor was on the right side of the bed with his oxygen mask, turned on his side towards Jeremy, asleep.  Between them, Matt Bragg, looking even more haggard than ever, curled up, holding one of their hands in each of his own, and very asleep.  Arya, their shared fluffy grey cat, had taken up residency on Jeremy’s chest, and Ryan was sure she was only allowed there because Jack and Geoff had literally zero power over any of the penthouse cats.

 

Ryan turned off the overhead light so they could sleep better and ducked out of the room, feeling as if he’d just witnessed something very private.  The Stream Team had managed to keep their triad under wraps for this long, he owed it to Jeremy not to spill the beans.  Not that everyone didn’t suspect Jeremy was dating either Matt or Trevor (and some thought both), but no one had ever had concrete proof.

 

Ryan opened the door to his own bedroom and was immediately attacked by Charlie, who attempted to try to love him to death.

 

“Hey, settle down,” Ryan told her.  “I love you too.”  She licked his face incessantly.  “I know, you miss me when you’re with Uncle Jeremy or Aunt Meg.”  Charlie settled down a little and Ryan patted her head, scratching her ears.  “Or maybe you think I’m here to take you to Uncle Jeremy.”  Charlie lifted up on her hind legs, excited.  “Not tonight, kiddo.”  Ryan stood back up and Charlie threaded through his legs like a cat.  “You’re such a cutie.”  Charlie hopped onto the bed and turned around three or four times before she laid down.  “Do you even remember your dad?  Your other dad?  The one that isn’t me?  Or do you think Uncle Jeremy is your other dad?”  Charlie didn’t have a reply to this, as she was, in fact, a dog.  Ryan sighed.  “I miss him.  He’ll come back when he’s ready, though.  Or he won’t, I guess.  Even if I don’t have a chance with him again, I don’t blame him after what I – what I did, but…  I really wish he was here.”  Charlie whined softly.  "Or maybe it's time to move on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the heist was supposed to be a lot more like rainbow 6 siege than it ended up being and i blame the fact that they stopped putting out weekly r6s git guds. 
> 
> i know the timeline for this chapter wasn't super obvious, but the heist planning meeting at the start of the chapter is about a month after Ray left, and the actual heist is about a month after that, with all the other events happening at some point in between.
> 
> if anyone remembers what video geoff calls michael something along the lines of 'mike the situation rage quit jones', please tell me. i think it was like worms or maybe minigolf or possibly the olympics? it's a really old video, i know that much.
> 
> next time: Ray's Return to Los Santos??? It's more likely than you think.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't written in over a month because of reasons and stuff. this chapter was shaping up to be another longass one but i no longer have to worry about pacing because.... ray comes back in this one
> 
> also this is the halloween chapter! in time for christmas! just like the pride chapter happened in like september instead of june. maybe we'll get a christmas chapter by valentines. and a valentines chapter by the fourth of july. who knows. time isn't real. 
> 
> warning for recreational drug use (weed)  
> also this chapter: the truth about jeremy

Yet another Gents meeting that was really just a staff meeting but without Lindsay, Michael, or Trevor. It felt like the 80th meeting in the few weeks since the heist gone so wrong, but it was probably only the third or fourth.  Ryan could barely stand the monotony of listening to Jack and Geoff talk. When he had the mask, no one cared if never replied or even paid attention.  But he didn’t wear the mask, not anymore.  Not even when he was on jobs a lot of the time.  Jeremy had offered to use Ryan’s face paint to draw a skull over his face instead of his usual face paint and Ryan, in need of a change, agreed.  Ryan had also retired his old blue and black Vagabond™ Jacket in favor of a plain black leather one.  He’d surprised them all one morning by showing up with black hair instead of his usual blond, and now that it was long enough to put in a ponytail, he knew he wouldn’t be recognized on the streets.  The old Vagabond can’t come to the phone right now.  Why?  Oh.  Cuz he’s dead. 

 

"I can't run this crew forever and neither can you," Geoff told Jack. "Lindsay and Trevor are our best replacements. We both know Gavin was groomed for royalty not leadership."

 

"Yes, Lindsay and Trevor are great at their jobs, but if the two of them take over for the two of us, who is going to do what they do now? No one could even hope to accomplish what Lindsay gets done in a day even blind and bedridden!" Jack exclaimed. "We should be looking into Michael and Ray."

 

"Michael I get, he's just like me, but Ray?" Geoff asked.

 

"No, Ray would replace you," Jack said.

 

"Ray's not a leader," Geoff said.

 

"And neither are you," Jack shot back. "Ray is one of the only ones here who would approach a helpless kid on the street and just be their friend, like you did for us." Geoff looked confused, so Jack continued. "You really think that you didn't change my life when you sat down next to that scared 11-year-old in that alley that night? That Griffon would have found someone else that loves her unconditionally and doesn't care about her past? That Gavin could have worked on movies, let alone become a director after being bounced around to every orphanage in San Andreas? That Ray-" She stopped, shooting a glance at Ryan, then continued. "That Ray would have found another family, or even learned what that word was supposed to mean? Michael, Lindsay, Jeremy, hell even Ryan has benefited from your stubborn fucking personality defect that doesn't let you give up on people. He doesn't realize it, but Ray is the same fucking way."

 

"He knows," Ryan said quietly. Jack stopped talking, and though she didn't turn to look at him, Ryan knew she was listening. "Maybe he doesn't accept it, but he's heard it before. He's always had my vote to replace Geoff."

 

"Ryan Haywood, the Mad King of Los Santos, gunning for future Lady Ramsey," Michael snorted from the doorway, letting himself into the meeting. "Sorry I'm late."

 

"You actually weren't invited, but that's okay," Jack said, clearing some of her papers into a smaller pile so Michael had room to sit.

 

"Heard you were discussing replacements, so I had to come speak on Lindsay's behalf," Michael said.

 

"Lindsay's not getting replaced," Jack said. "No one else could ever do her job."

 

"Trevor could," Michael said. "Give Lindsay's job to Trevor, promote her to regular crew. She deserves it."

 

"And who would do Trevor's job?" Ryan asked.

 

"Who cares? He deserves a promotion too," Michael said. "After the bullshit of this last heist, there's no way you don't agree. What is his job, B-team recruitment? Give that to somebody who cares. Give it to Shifty. He's pretty alright. Who cares. Trevor is more than capable of doing Lindsay's job, and especially with what she’s dealing with right now, she deserves a break. Just give her a trial. She can be vital to this crew, and Trevor can do what she does for you. Maybe not as well as Lindsay does, but well enough."

 

"Trevor is only with us for another year, maybe two, if we're lucky," Jack said.

 

"What, because he wants to go legit and work for NASA? Bullshit," Michael said. "He'll be here."

 

"I can't stop him from leaving," Geoff told Michael.

 

"So give Lindsay a chance while he's still here, then," Michael said. "She deserves it. You know she won't disappoint you."

 

"She never has," Geoff agreed.  He turned back to Jack. "As for Ray, you know he has my vote, but he would never willingly take on that much responsibility, he's just a kid. And that's even if he ever comes back from Austin."

 

"He's in Austin?" Ryan asked, incredulous.  He hadn’t heard from Ray since he’d left almost three months ago, though he hadn’t yet given up all hope that he’d be back soon.  Three months was nothing in the scope of immortality.

 

"Yeah, and you didn't hear it from me," Geoff told him. "Maybe in, what, ten years? Ray might be ready to take over this crew, but not soon."

 

"We're not looking for someone to replace us tomorrow," Jack argued. "We still have a few years left in us."

 

"Maybe you do, but I don't," Geoff said. "I've been in this business 21 years next month, and I'm tired. I need a break. I need a successor _now_."

 

"So let Michael and I take over," Jack said. "Michael can more than handle my job, and I can take over for you. I was a boss before, I'm more than capable."

 

"Michael?" Geoff asked.

 

"I'm up for it," Michael replied. "As soon as Lindsay is back on her feet. Until then, it's all I can do just to keep up with helping her."

 

"You wouldn't need to if Trevor took over for her," Geoff said.

 

"Trevor's still out of action too," Ryan reminded them.

 

"As soon as Trevor is back, then," Geoff amended.

 

"If you need to go now, you can," Jack told him. "Michael and Ryan and I can handle things until Lindsay and Trevor are back on their feet. If you need time off, a vacation, a sabbatical, take as much time as you need."

 

"Really?" Geoff asked.

 

"Yeah, really," Jack said. "You've had my back for long enough."

 

"Me? You're always doing things for me, I haven't done anything for you," Geoff said.

 

"Geoff, this is my dream. You know this was always my dream," Jack said. "It would be my honor to take over for you for a few weeks."

 

"Or like a year," Geoff said.

 

"Or ten years. As long as you need," Jack said.

 

"Not ten years," Geoff shook his head. "Griff and I just need some time. If I can get her to a place where she can be main crew again..."

 

"Absolutely," Jack agreed. "It's in the best interest of all of us, and I definitely owe you."

 

"You don't owe me anything, Jack," Geoff told her. "We're equal partners, remember?" Jack decided they were done arguing at that point.

 

"It's decided then. Lindsay will be promoted to main crew, Trevor will be promoted to her job, Michael will help me take over for you until you're back from your hiatus," Jack summed up.

 

Ryan knew he didn't deserve a promotion. He knew he was lucky to still be considered crew, but it did bother him that he wasn't even asked. He was still a Gent, no matter what he'd done, and he'd always ranked the same as Jack. Yes, she and Geoff went way back, maybe further than Ryan's history with her, but still. To act as though he wasn't even there.

 

"Ryan, you'll be a good boy and help out Jack while Lindsay and Trevor are still out?" Geoff asked him. Ryan's attention snapped back to Geoff and he nodded.

 

"How soon are you thinking of going?" Michael asked.

 

"We'll be gone by Tuesday," Geoff said. The other three just stared, shocked. "Too soon?"

 

"No, take what you need," Jack said. "You've got a long life ahead of you, take care of yourself."

 

"Don't even remind me," Geoff muttered.

 

*

 

Geoff was gone without a trace by 11:59 Pacific Time Monday night, and it was all Jack and Ryan could do to keep the rumors that Ramsey was gone forever and Fake AH was crumbling from taking root. Jack and Michael went out to cause trouble every night for a few nights, and finally when Michael couldn't be away from Lindsay and Gavin, who were both still ill, then Jeremy and Ryan took their place. Ryan was taking his murder break seriously this time, armed to the teeth with nerf guns and foam knives.

 

Geoff and Griffon were gone for three weeks, and they came back as suddenly as they'd left. Nothing was really different. Griffon told Jack in secret that Geoff hadn't been able to relax and let go. Jack wasn't surprised. Geoff told Jack that he was going to be there and participate, but he refused to be in charge. She was going to have to continue to run things. Jack agreed. Gavin was cleared to return to action, and Michael didn't need to dedicate all his time to feeling guilty and caring for him and Lindsay.

 

The crew planned a celebratory 'heist' that was just holding up a convenience store for a few bucks and a couple bottles of liquor (for those that drank) and probably some Diet Coke. It was a job any one of them could have done solo, but they had the whole crew, everyone but Lindsay, Trevor, and Griffon. Even Alfredo was coming, despite the fact he hadn't been hired for anything yet and he was very, very unnecessary.

 

**

 

Ray crept into town in the middle of the night.  He didn’t want to be seen.  He was a sniper, a professional, with the training of an assassin, he knew how to get in and out of a city without being seen.  He adjusted his glasses and zoomed in on a familiar Vinewood street.  The shop under Ryan’s apartment still bore the Ryan The IT Guy banner, but the windows were boarded up, and when Ray panned up to look into the apartment itself, he saw all the curtains were drawn and it was dark.  Of course, it was two in the morning, but it was odd.  How long had Ryan’s place been deserted?  Ray returned his glasses to normal mode, then vaulted the lip on the roof he was standing on to land on the fire escape, which did not appreciate bearing Ray’s full 140 pound weight.  He grimaced, steadying himself, then jumped from the fire escape onto the dumpster and back to the street.  Parkour.

 

It’s not that Ray really cared what Ryan was doing.  He’d tried to kill him, after all, and though Ray was willing to move on, he wasn’t sure if he forgave him yet.  Ray walked the mile or so from Vinewood to Little Seoul to check on his own apartment.  It was still there, still standing.  Looked like it had been broken into at least once, but it was empty.  Ray was thankful for small mercies as he collapsed into the couch. 

 

Ray wasn’t the same kid that had left Los Santos anymore.  He still had the pink guns, the purple hoodie, the checkerboard vans, and the brown Adder, but he’d really grown into himself.  He’d been handling his own schedule and his own jobs and his own money for the four months he’d been gone, and yes, four months was a bathroom break to an immortal, but Ray wasn’t that old, not yet. 

 

Needless to say, he’d picked up what he’d consider a few bad habits in Austin, least of which was weed.  He hated the smoke and the taste, but it helped him relax and focus.  It helped him sleep without hearing the screams and seeing the faces of all the people he’d killed.  He imagined that was why Michael had started smoking.

 

And here Ray was, sneaking around the city he used to be heir to.  He hadn’t told anyone he was coming, not even Gavin, and he was fairly certain that he’d avoided detection thus far.  His Adder was parked outside the city in an old Ramsey Syndicate garage that was never used anymore (not since Screw Attack seized that part of town).  Tomorrow he’d see if he could find the crew, or what might be left of it.  He hadn’t heard from Gavin since he’d visited, and Ray knew they’d had a big heist right after.  It had been… weeks since that, though.  The complete silence was really what had prompted Ray to come back.  He wanted to make sure Gavin was alright.  He’d tried texting few times, but to no reply, and Gavin was never on Xbox Live anymore.  This was really beyond being ignored, Ray was honestly concerned.  Not concerned enough to try texting anyone else (like Geoff), but enough to sneak into town.

 

Ray wasn’t sure how he was going to track the crew down, but if they were up to something, and they probably were, he’d just follow the sirens.  Alternately, he could station himself on top of the Arcadius and try to get a good look in the penthouse windows.  With his souped up glasses, it was more than doable.

 

**

 

Jeremy was easy to spot, down on the street, still in his bright orange and purple.  Gavin knocked the white cowboy hat off his head, laughing, and Ray could see that Jeremy’s hair was now orange and purple too, instead of the green it had been before.  Gavin squawked as Jeremy threw a hand out to playfully hit him in the chest before picking up his hat again.  Gavin dodged behind Michael, same as they ever were.  Jack wasn’t far off, holding a tablet and checking the location against their notes.  She looked great in a halter top and tight jeans, but she couldn’t have been comfortable.  Geoff had gone into the store to case the inside.  He was clean shaven (rip the mustache) and looked happy and much healthier than he’d been before he’d gone sober, but either he’d gone insane in his sobriety or he’d lost a bet, as he was wearing a sleeveless denim jacket and maybe burgundy pants and … work boots… ?  Alright, whatever.  You do you, buddy.  Ray didn’t see Ryan anywhere, which he thought strange.  Gavin never mentioned him in their phone calls, but Ray was pretty sure he would have said something if he’d up and left, not that he'd had any contact with Gavin for... six weeks? Seven? 

 

Ray continued to scan the area and spotted Trevor’s Ethnic Twin on a rooftop with a good angle on the store Geoff was in.  Of course, they would have hired a replacement for him.  Ray moved slightly so he was more hidden from Trevor’s Ethnic Twin’s eye line, if he looked in Ray’s direction, which he had no reason to do.  Ray scanned the street hopelessly, spying on his crew, his _family_ , and still not seeing his … whatever he and Ryan were to each other at this point.  After a few minutes, someone Ray didn’t immediately recognize pulled up on a lime green Bati.  Ray recognized the motorcycle immediately, he’d escaped many a heist on the back of it.  Ryan’s bike.  Ray frowned and zoomed in on the guy riding it.

 

He had black hair in a short ponytail; a black leather jacket, unzipped, to reveal he wasn't wearing anything underneath; and dark jeans.  Jeremy immediately ran over to him and looked to be briefing him on everything he missed, then handed him a comm.  He looked around and Ray finally saw his face, a white skull painted shoddily over his features, but… very, _very_ Ryan. 

 

How had so much about him changed in just a few months?

 

Ryan and Jeremy high-fived, laughing about something, then Jeremy handed Ryan what looked like a Nerf brand knock off of a mini gun.  Ray thought that was odd, but didn’t have anyone to ask about it.

 

Ray’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he stopped spying on the crew to look at it.  A text from Gavin.

 

_He’s on a murder break._  

 

Ray popped his head up from the low wall around the roof to gauge how far away the crew was.  There was no way Gavin could see him from where he was.  Ray could barely make them out without the enhancements to his glasses.

 

_Alfredo told me you’re up there, somewhere_ , Gavin added.  Damn.  Ray had thought he was careful.  Alfredo must be Trevor’s Ethnic Twin.  _You should come home._

 

_I can’t_ , Ray replied.

 

_Then come to mine tonight_. 

 

Ray agreed and made for the stairs off the roof.  He needed to get away from this block before shit started going down.

 

He did end up at Gavin's that night, around 8:30 he pulled his Adder into Gavin's garage. He noticed that not only were Gavin's purple Blista and a myriad of cars that Ray knew belonged to Meg there, but also quite a few of Michael and Lindsay's cars, including the chrome Adder and the green and black Dubsta. Bracing himself for an ambush, Ray called the elevator down to the garage. Gavin's apartment (which was technically Meg's) was a decent mid-rise near the beach. Was it an apartment? Was it a condo? Who knew. Ray had been there like once before, and he barely remembered where it was.

 

Gavin and Meg were both in the kitchen when Ray walked in, unboxing Chinese takeout onto plates. There seemed to be way more than for just the three of them.

 

"Hey!" Gavin said happily. "Welcome home!"

 

"We'll see," Ray replied.  “First things first, where’s my baby?”  Charlie scrambled to her feet at the sound of Ray’s voice and raced from where she’d been lying on the couch in the living room to nearly jump on Ray.  “Hey, kiddo, didja miss me?”  Charlie licked Ray’s hand insistently.

 

“Of course she missed you,” Meg said.

 

“Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Meg took good care of you?  I don’t have to be mean to them?” Ray asked Charlie.

 

“Of course we did!” Meg exclaimed.  She offered Ray one of the five plates on the counter and Ray took it into the dining room. Meg's apartment was dope.

 

"Are we expecting company?" Ray asked as Charlie clicked across the tiled floor behind him and settled herself next to Ray’s chair.

 

"Michael and Lindsay might come by later," Meg said. "We always plan for four. That okay?" Ray nodded, and noticed Gavin trying to discreetly text behind the counter in the kitchen.

 

"How have things been?" Ray asked Meg as she followed him into the dining room.

 

"Wild," Meg laughed. "Did Gav tell you about the heist they pulled?"

 

"Not really," Ray said. "High stakes?"

 

"Lindsay and Trevor are still recovering," Meg said. "Gavin's just recently cleared to return to active duty."

 

"What the fuck happened?" Ray asked, concerned, as Gavin walked in with a plate of food.

 

"Anti-immortal gas," Gavin said. "Blinded Lindsay."

 

"Fortunately not permanently," Meg said. "She'll make a full recovery."

 

"And Trevor?" Ray asked.

 

"He'll be alright," Gavin said. "Still on oxygen, but he'll be alright eventually."

 

"Holy fuck," Ray said. "Why didn't you tell me?" Gavin shrugged.

 

"Wasn't that important, I guess. They'll be alright," Gavin said.

 

"Have you met Alfredo?" Meg asked Ray.

 

"No, is he the one that replaced me?" Ray asked.

 

"He's temporary," Gavin said. "You're always welcome back here."

 

"What about Jeremy?" Ray asked.

 

"He got his full-fledged immortal status," Gavin said. "Very few complications."

 

"You killed him??" Ray asked, shocked.  “What about Charles?  She must have been traumatized!”

 

“She was fine.  She spent some time with her father,” Meg said, a comment largely ignored by the group.

 

"Lil J's back and stronger than ever," Gavin said. "Same as he ever was, though."

 

"He should have done it sooner," Meg said.

 

"Yeah? And what if that research was wrong?" Ray asked. "Then he's just a dead kid."

 

"Burnie's never been wrong," Gavin said.

 

"The earlier you get it done, the better off you are," Meg said.

 

"That's an old wives tale," Gavin waved her off.

 

"Oh yeah? How old were you, Gav?" Meg asked him.

 

"I dunno, young. 4 or 5, maybe," Gavin said.

 

"Ray?"

 

"Less than a year, I think," Ray said. Meg only stopped to be in awe for a few seconds.

 

"And Geoff?"

 

"He was 9," Ray said. "And Jack was 14, Michael was 15."

 

"Exactly, and you have all had very few complications, if any," Meg said. "I was 18, and you know what I went through. Ry was 24, and he's still struggling, 6 years later." Gavin tensed up at the mention of Ryan, afraid Ray would say something, but he just passed over it.

 

"That's only half the reason, though," Ray said. "The aging thing. As young as Gav and I were, we had to keep aging. Even Geoff and Jack have aged. Michael really hasn't. Not that much. Trevor hasn't."

 

"I hope I don't still look 18," Meg laughed. Ray shrugged.

 

"It's different for everybody," he said. "Some people have a complete factory reset every time they die. Thankfully for all of us, Jack isn't one of those people." It took a second for both Gavin and Meg to realize why that would be especially bad for Jack.

 

"And then there's Griffon," Gavin pointed out.

 

"I don't think her issues stem from being immortal," Ray said. "Best guess, she has severe PTSD from whatever happened to her that she can't even remember."

 

"When did you get so smart?" Gavin asked him.

 

"Dude, Austin is a total culture shock," Ray said. "You wouldn't believe it. Immortals are rare as fuck, and the crime rings are all underground. They don't live like us there. Don't get me wrong, it was a good time and the money was phenomenal, but I'm glad to be home."

 

"So you are staying, then," Gavin said. Ray shrugged.

 

"Even without the protection of a crew, I can easily make ten times what I'm making here, in Austin," Ray said.

 

"But your crew is here, your family is here, your dog is here, your bloody boyfriend is here! In Los Santos!" Gavin almost yelled.

 

"He's not my boyfriend anymore, Gav," Ray said calmly. "Ray Narvaez Jr is back on the market. Watch out, ladies."

 

"Really?" Meg asked. "That's your line?"

 

"I'll work on it," Ray said. "Honestly, I miss Ryan and everything, and yeah, so I'm willing to forgive him, but I can't just waltz back into town and inform him our relationship is back on after months of nothing. I'm not insane. And I don't know if I'm willing to trust him again. Simple as that."

 

"You should give him a second chance," Meg said.

 

"He tried to kill me," Ray began a longer sentence, but Meg cut him off.

 

"He DID kill me!" she shouted. "Twice!" It was quiet for a moment, then the bell rang in the other room, indicating someone (most likely Michael and Lindsay) was at the door. Gavin went to let them in.

 

"I'm sorry," Ray muttered to Meg. "I know you had it way worse than I did..."

 

"I'm sorry too, I need to stop bringing that up. He's changed since then," Meg shook her head.

 

"Heyy, look what the cat finally dragged in!" Michael exclaimed, bounding into the room, setting down his plate of Chinese next to Ray, and collapsing into the seat. "How've you been?"  Charlie, surprised, jumped to her feet, but calmed down when Michael scratched her head.

 

"Fine," Ray said, honestly.

 

"Fine? Really, that's it?" Michael asked.

 

"Yeah, sure. Just livin. You know how it is," Ray said.

 

"Alright," Michael nodded. "Where?"

 

"Austin."

 

"What did you do there to stave of the boredom?" Michael asked.

 

"Got a job," Ray said nonspecifically.

 

"A job as in..." Michael prompted.

 

"As a sniper," Ray finished. Michael nodded. Gavin came into the room with Lindsay, helping her navigate the room. She was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, even inside and at night, and it was very clear to see she was blind or almost blind. "Hey Lindsay," Ray said to her.

 

"Ray?" Lindsay asked.

 

"Yeah, I'm back," Ray said. "They don't tell you anything, do they?"

 

"No, not much," Lindsay said. "But it's fine. As soon as I can see again, I'm getting promoted to regular crew!"

 

"That's sweet," Ray agreed.

 

"Are you coming back? We could be partners!" Lindsay said hopefully.

 

"Maybe, we'll see," Ray said.

 

"But I want to be X-Ray's partner," Gavin pouted.

 

"Excuse my language, but fuck no," Ray said. "I did that for long enough to know that's a terrible idea."

 

"It wasn't that bad!" Gavin exclaimed.

 

"If I come back, hard if, I'll willingly come back as Michael's partner, or Lindsay's, or, like, Jeremy's..." Ray said.

 

"Weeellllll, Jeremy has a partner already and I don't think he wants to change," Michael said. "But yeah, you can be mine if you want. Or I can go with Gav and you can be Lindsay's."

 

"Dangerous to have Team Losers together," Meg said.

 

"That's not very nice," Ray said.

 

"No, that's their real team name," Michael assured him. "They're Team Losers, we're Team Winners." He indicated himself and Meg. "Winners always win. And Losers... Well, they lose."

 

"We don't always lose!" Gavin protested.

 

"You usually lose," Meg said.

 

"Or we wildcard the fuck out of it!" Lindsay said with a grin. "Up top!" She held her hand up for a high five.

 

"Gavin is nowhere near you," Michael told her. Lindsay frowned and put her hand back down, fumbling for her fork, and then missed her plate by quite a bit on the down swing. "Hun..." Michael sighed, reorganizing her so she could more easily reach her plate.

 

"I won't be blind forever!" Lindsay said happily. "I'm getting better!"

 

"I know, beebs, I know," Michael said. "You're rocking it."  He gave a slightly unconvincing smile to Ray, which made Ray think Michael was slowly losing his sanity.

 

“I didn’t know it was so bad,” Ray said.  “Someone doesn’t answer his text messages.”

 

“In my defense, I had to get a new phone because mine died in the heist,” Gavin said.  Ray didn't mention that Gavin had had no problem texting Ray earlier that day, or the fact that neither of them had changed their number.

 

“Do you need me to run jobs or anything?” Ray asked Michael.

 

“Uh…” Michael said, looking around the table cautiously before crafting his reply.  “Only if you want to.  We’re okay for now.”  He and Meg shared a Look that Gavin missed.  Ray nodded, understanding there would be more on this topic later.

**

 

Later came sooner than Ray expected. Michael finished his dinner and excused himself to the roof for a smoke. Ray invited himself along and Charlie followed them.

 

"You smoke now?" Michael asked.

 

"Yeah," Ray said, pulling his lighter out of his hoodie pocket to fidget with it. "Shit happens."

 

"You asked if I need you to run jobs?" Michael asked, sitting down with his back against the wall of the roof to pack them a bowl. Ray sat next to him and Charlie settled herself in Ray's lap.

 

"Yeah?" Ray replied.

 

"I could use you. Jobs are backing up. With Lindsay and Trevor both out, I can't keep up with scheduling. The Sauce is great, don't get me wrong, but he's not always available when I need him and I think Trevor wants to fuck him," Michael said.  “Which is none of my business, and I don’t really care who’s fucking who in the crew until it starts affecting peoples’ work.”

 

"But it’s still weird, because they're twins," Ray pointed out.

 

"Trevor was blond there for a while," Michael said. "But it doesn't matter. You would have your pick of jobs, your choice of partner if any, name your price, we'll pay."

 

"Is it really that bad?" Ray asked.

 

"Geoff left," Michael finally told him just before he lit his bowl and took a swift inhale. He exhaled slowly, handing it to Ray, who did the same. "Geoff's been gone almost a month. Said he needed a vacation, left Jack in charge. Rumors started, you know how it is. Jack and I were running jobs daily just to prove fake AH can stand without Ramsey, and I shouldn't have been out. I should still be home with Lindsay." Ray passed him back his pipe and Michael took another drag. "He's back now, I guess,  but he still wants Jack and I to run things. You might say I'm a little stressed."

 

"I'll do whatever you need, don't worry about paying me," Ray shook his head.

 

"But you said you can make ten times your crew salary in Austin," Michael said.

 

"You're family," Ray told him. Michael hugged him, full on wrapped him up in a hug. Ray couldn't remember ever being hugged by Michael before, but it was okay.

 

"Thank you," Michael whispered before he finally pulled away.

 

**

 

"Alright, we need you to take out these cameras without being seen," Michael said, handing Ray a map with a bunch of red x's on it. "See if you can coordinate with Matt Bragg to come up with a strategy."

 

"No need. I can do it," Ray said, committing the map to memory.

 

"God it's nice to have you back," Michael sighed happily.

 

"What about Caiti? Is she still around? Isn't she a fucking amazing sniper?" Ray asked.

 

"She's back in Australia. I know, I was thinking the same thing," Michael said.

 

"International travel? She doesn't get picked up at airports?" Ray asked.

 

"I don't think anyone expects such a tiny little girl to be an international assassin," Michael said. "She'll be back for Christmas."

 

"It's October."

 

"Yeah," Michael said.

 

"Like tomorrow is Halloween."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Alright," Ray nodded. "Who am I shooting these cameras out for, anyway?"

 

"I don't know who's taking the job at the moment," Michael said, shuffling the papers on Lindsay's desk (that was temporarily his desk).

 

"Does that mean you really don't know or you just don't want to tell me?" Ray asked.

 

"It could be the battle buddies," Michael relented. "It probably will be."

 

"Who the fuck," Ray asked, confused, but Michael cut him off.

 

"The thing about Jeremy is," Michael began, "he's been a little... Eccentric? Something must have rubbed off on him, but he's got this whole criminal alter ego thing going on, and it's really stupid, but you just have to play along and don't hurt his feelings, okay?"

 

"He...what?" Ray asked.

 

"I'm not kidding, this is exactly what he says: Like Superman and Clark Kent. By day, he's mild mannered Jeremy N. Dooley, art student. By night, he's..." Michael sighed heavily. "Rimmy Tim."

 

"What?"

 

"I know," Michael agreed.

 

"How is that not just something Gavin said once?" Ray asked.

 

"I know."

 

"So this... Rimmy Tim..." Ray began.

 

"You're just going to have to see for yourself," Michael shook his head.  Ray knew he’d heard Jeremy say the words, ‘rimmy tim’ before, but he had been fairly certain Jeremy was referring to someone he looked up to or admired, like a celebrity or a professional wrestler.

 

"And his partner is..." Ray prompted, knowing the answer already.

 

"Ryan."

 

"Of course," Ray nodded then rolled his eyes.

 

"Ray."

 

"I don't care. Do I look like I care?" Ray asked.

 

"Yeah, a little," Michael said.

 

"Well I don't," Ray said stubbornly.

 

"Whatever you're thinking, it's not like that. They just work really well together. Ryan's on his murder break, and Jeremy is the only one of us who's willing to put up with his attitude. All there is to it," Michael told Ray. Ray sighed heavily, folding his map and putting it in his jeans pocket. "What?" Ray shook his head. "Ray, you can tell me. We're here at my wife's office, sneaking around the whole damn crew. I think we're passed the point of secrets."

 

"I can't decide if I really miss him or what we had," Ray said. "You know what I mean?"

 

"Uh..."

 

"Like I don't know if I miss Ryan or if I miss having a relationship," Ray said.

 

"Maybe it's both," Michael suggested.

 

"I was afraid of that," Ray sighed.

 

"Speaking of," Michael said, "do you really want us to keep the information that you're back under wraps?"

 

"I don't know," Ray replied.

 

"I only ask because Jeremy is going to want to see Charlie at some point," Michael said.

 

"You can tell him he can have either my boyfriend OR my partner OR my dog and definitely not all three," Ray replied. Michael blinked. "Yeah, I don't know. I can make an appearance at some point, I guess. I might as well. Putting it off is just stupid, right? There's only so long I can be a ghost in the night."

 

"Whenever you're ready, you let me know," Michael told him.

 

**

 

Monday was Halloween. This was usually a Big Deal for Fake AH, and this year was no exception. Jeremy and Ryan were shoddily dressed up as each other’s' criminal alter egos. Lindsay was a cat for the umpteenth year running. ("I'm a blind cat this year! It's different!")

 

Every year, Fake AH threw a Halloween party and invited some people from the Roosters, Funhaus, Screw Attack, and other members of the Let's Play Family. Nothing huge.

 

Ramsey Enterprises, Inc. owned a club in midtown, which closed to the public on Halloween for the private party (though just about anyone and everyone usually showed up for the "private" event anyhow). There was about 70 people in the club currently, and more were expected to arrive.

 

Casually as you please, Ray sat between Michael and Gavin in a booth on the outskirts of the dance floor. Ray had never drank, of course, and still didn't drink now, but he had a sweet bottled root beer that he was enjoying amid Michael, Gavin, Lindsay, and Meg all attempting to drink one another under the table.

 

A few of Ray's friends from the other crews spotted him and came over to chat. (Kerry and Barbara were the first to show, then Adam Kovic and the Willemses.) News seemed to spread through the club that Ray was back in town when a drunk Miles Luna nearly kissed him, because Jon Risinger showed up to see Ray, and then finally the news seemed to get back to Fake AH.

 

Geoff suddenly showed up, out of breath, with Jack and Griffon further behind him.

 

"Ray!" Geoff exclaimed, breathing heavily.

 

"Hi boss, how's it going?" Ray asked.

 

"You're. Back!" Geoff panted.

 

"Yeah, catch your breath, dude. You want some water?" Ray asked, offering Geoff one of the glasses of water on the table. Geoff took it, and Jack and Griffon finally ambled over. "Hey."

 

"It's so good to see you," Jack said with a smile. "How've you been?"

 

"I've been fine. Austin is awesome, you guys should come see it some time," Ray said.

 

"You're not staying?" Geoff asked, but Griffon cut him off, elbowing him hard.

 

"We'd love to visit Austin," Griffon said.

 

"How long are you in town for?" Jack asked.

 

"Haven't decided yet. A little while at least," Ray said. "Might stop by the penthouse if you haven't rented my room. Don't blame you if you did, that's prime real estate."

 

"We'll always keep your room for you," Jack assured him.

 

"I'll stop by, then," Ray said.

 

The whole interaction was very polite, and then Jack and Griffon dragged Geoff away from the table. Geoff was angrily muttering something.

 

"He'll get over it," Michael told Ray. "Do you want to dance with us?"

 

"Hell yeah," Ray agreed with a grin. The five of them got up to dance (and Gavin reminded them they had to keep an eye on Lindsay and make sure she didn't accidentally wander off).

 

("I can see lights and some blurry shapes now, guys, I'm fine!" Lindsay insisted. This attempt was promptly ignored.)

 

Jeremy, drunk and unfazed by Ray's return, looking like a gremlin sized OG Vagabond and drowning in Ryan's old blue and black jacket, danced by them to join Trevor, Matt, and Alfredo.

 

"Is Ryan here?" Ray asked Gavin as quietly as he could while still being heard over the loud music. Gavin pointed across the room where a tall figure was brooding in the corner best he could in a skintight orange and purple suit. "I regret asking," Ray immediately said. Gavin laughed.

 

"I told you you'd have to see Rimmy Tim to believe it," Michael said. "Though the 6'1 Rimmy is slightly more terrifying."

 

Ray was madder than he should have been at Jeremy. He knew he had no right to be angry at all, and that his anger was also baseless, as Jeremy was probably still with either Matt or Trevor (or maybe Alfredo? Who knew at this point, honestly.) But the fact still remained that Ray wanted to physically fight Jeremy. (Ray knew he would lose, but in his fantasy where he actually did physically fight Jeremy, he wouldn't lose. Fantasies are not real life.)

 

**

 

Ray easily made his way back to the penthouse with Michael and Lindsay that night after the party. The living room was deserted, and Michael flumped onto the couch to make himself at home.

 

Lindsay walked into a chair and winced slightly before making her way around it to sit. Ray moved Michael's legs to sit down and Michael put his legs back in Ray's lap.

 

"Been playing the new CoD?" Michael asked Ray.

 

"You know it," Ray affirmed. "You have it?"

 

"Duh." Ray reached for the Xbox controller on the table and the remote for the TV. "Perfect it yet?"

 

"Yeah," Ray said. "Still fun to play though."

 

Michael and Lindsay chatted about work stuff, Michael read Lindsay her texts and emails, and Lindsay dictated replies. It seemed like this was pretty normal to them at this point.

 

When they seemed finished, Ray offered Michael the option to play with him and Michael agreed.

 

Michael had just gotten himself blown up yet another time, swearing up a storm, while Lindsay laughed and Ray sarcastically bragged that he was the best at games, when the door to the penthouse opened again. None of them looked up from their game, no cares in their mind besides kicking the others ass.

 

"Ray."

 

Ray's blood ran cold, he hadn't even put two and two together to realize Ryan actually lived here and would be coming home at some point. Michael put one hand on Ray's knee to remind him he was safe, and turned to address the duo behind them.

 

"Can I help you with something?" Michael asked.

 

"I'm gonna..." Jeremy said, attempting to slide out of the room and down the hall.

 

Ray's gaze was a fixed glare at the TV. Michael's hand had moved from his knee to his shoulder when he'd turned around.

 

Michael raised his eyebrows at Ryan, daring him to try something. Ryan quietly left the room and followed Jeremy down the hall. Michael sat back down.

 

"You okay?" Michael asked Ray. Ray nodded. "You sure?"

 

"Yeah," Ray said. "I knew what I was getting into coming back here."

 

"He is not going to hurt you again," Michael said. "Not on my watch."

 

"No, I know, and I can handle myself," Ray said. "Can I smoke on the roof?"

 

"Yeah," Michael allowed, and Ray left the living room to go upstairs. It was a brisk 55 degrees and warm-blooded Ray pulled his hoodie tighter around himself as he settled himself in his favorite spot.

 

Ray's lighter sparked a few times before it finally lit and he took a long inhale. The weed was supposed to help with the panicking, that's why Michael smoked. That and stress.

 

Ray smoked his bowl in peace for a few minutes, probably more like 15 or 20, then there was arguing coming from the stairs down into the penthouse, then Michael came running up with Jeremy right behind him.

 

"Jeremy requests an audience," Michael told Ray. Ray looked up and exhaled a cloud of smoke he'd been holding in.

 

"Am I a king now?" Ray asked. "What does he want?"

 

"I'm just sorry," Jeremy said. "I thought we could talk. Um, privately." Ray nodded to Michael, who hesitantly descended the staircase again.

 

"What's up, Lil J?" Ray asked , indicating Jeremy could come sit next to him. Now that he'd changed into a normal tshirt and jeans, he didn't seem that different than he'd ever been.  Even the new color of hair seemed to be just another part of Jeremy's personality.  He'd always been green, but now he was orange and purple.  Not a huge change.

 

"I don't want to step on your toes or be your replacement, I never did. I always looked up to you when you were with the crew," Jeremy said.

 

"And I think you're a great fit for the job you do," Ray responded. "Snipers are a dime a dozen in Los Santos. Every pretty girl with a rifle and a scope thinks she's a sniper."

 

"Are we the pretty girls?" Jeremy asked.

 

"We're always the pretty girls," Ray said. "From what it sounds like, they didn't even ask you to replace me."

 

"Are you coming back?" Jeremy asked. "To work?"

 

"I'll stay for a little while at least, help clean up a few things Michael needs done," Ray replied.

 

"What about Ryan?" Jeremy asked.

 

"What about him?"

 

"He's your... I don't know," Jeremy said.

 

"Not anymore," Ray said, shaking his head.

 

"But he is. Like I don't want to take him from you, I have a boyfriend already," Jeremy said.

 

"Matt," Ray agreed.

 

"Trevor," Jeremy corrected him. Ray frowned. "Okay, both, sometimes. It's not important. Nothing has happened between me and Ryan, regardless of what anyone has told you."

 

"No one's told me anything," Ray said. "And I don't care even if it did."

 

"Are you mad at me?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Why would I be mad at you?" Ray asked. Jeremy didn't have a good reply. "You're doing your job and you're good at it. I'm not mad at anyone for that. I couldn't do what you're doing. I'd be dead and gone."

 

"I was fortunate," Jeremy said. "I think Geoff knew when he hired me what I'd be capable of."

 

"But you didn't?" Ray asked. Jeremy shook his head. "Can relate. What is it about Geoff and homeless orphans?"

 

"Were we all homeless orphans?" Jeremy asked.

 

"You, me, and Gavin," Ray verified. "Supposedly Michael's parents still love him."

 

"Can I tell you the truth?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I'm not from Los Santos. Not originally. I was stolen from my parents when I was very young and taken to - to one of those places you hear about them taking kids to. To be part of those... experiments," he spat the word, "that they do on kids because they CAN and HOW ELSE are they ever going to be able to UNDERSTAND us. Like in the Xmen. You know." Ray nodded. "Burnie found me. Rescued a lot of us, actually. When everyone else was returned to their parents, no one had called back about me."

 

"Dead?" Ray asked.

 

"Murdered," Jeremy replied. "Burnie found me a foster family here in Los Santos. He thought I'd be safe here. There's enough immortals here that no one cares about one more. Or they didn't used to."

 

"And then what? How'd you end up with Geoff?" Ray asked, interested.

 

"All of that happened probably around the same time you and Gavin first moved in here," Jeremy said. "So I lived with the Hullums for a little while..."

 

"Wait, like Matt Hullum, the kingpin of the Roosters?" Ray asked.

 

"Yeah, but he and Anna kept me sheltered from the crew life more than Geoff did with you guys, at least according to Gavin," Jeremy said. "That's how I became the Risemonger's dogsitter. And I met Matt Bragg there."

 

"And how come you're with us now?" Ray asked again.

 

"They needed someone to trade for Kerry," Jeremy said. "I guess they knew Trevor and Matt were here and I'd be happier on this side. It was sad to leave the Hullums after so long, but I do like it here. I think if it was up to Anna, they never would have street trained me."

 

"So you know the Roosters pretty well, then," Ray said.

 

"I know them okay," Jeremy shrugged. "I think they all kind of saw me as the little kid, even Jon."

 

"Doesn't help that you're only 5'4," Ray pointed out.

 

"It's all way in the past to me now," Jeremy shrugged. "I don't even know why I decided to tell you that."

 

"You're alright, Lil J," Ray said. "Everyone expects there to be all this bad blood between us, but I really do think you're great. Can I help it if I’m jealous? You have my partner, my dog, and everyone thinks you and Ryan are fucking. Anyone would be annoyed."

 

"We're definitely not fucking," Jeremy assured Ray. "Who said we are?"

 

"I don't know," Ray admitted. "Maybe that was Trevor and new Trevor."

 

"Alright, now that I believe," Jeremy laughed.

 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but what's the deal with you and Matt and/or Trevor?" Ray asked.

 

"Officially, but, like not really public knowledge or anything, Matt is my boyfriend," Jeremy said. "Trevor and I used to go out when we were in high school, but he found out I was kind of involved with the Roosters, and he didn't really like that... but we're obviously not hostile."

 

"Right, because you go out with him all the time. Or you did? Maybe?" Ray asked.

 

"Matt and I decided a long time ago that Trevor was welcome whenever he pleased, and we both like him a lot, and Trevor was both feet in for a good long time, there," Jeremy said. "It doesn't hurt my feelings any that he's backed off to chase Alfredo. He'll be back. Or he won't. Everyone keeps saying he's going to leave the crew when he finishes college anyway. We'll probably never see him again."

 

"That's fuckin sad," Ray said. "What the fuck."

 

"No, what's sad is how long you've been in town without telling anyone," Jeremy said.

 

"How long have I been in town, then?" Ray asked.

 

"Matt picked you up on the city limits Thursday night," Jeremy said. "You're lucky I convinced him to go to Gavin and not Geoff."

 

"There's no way anyone detected me," Ray said defensively. "You're guessing at Thursday."

 

"Alarms went off in the garage you stashed your Adder in," Jeremy said.

 

"I put in the code!" Ray exclaimed.

 

"We changed the codes," Jeremy said.  “Chad James from Screw Attack helped us with the last heist, and we had to change all the codes afterwards.”

 

"Damn it!"

 

"Are you, um, gonna try to patch things up with Ryan? Like, ever?" Jeremy asked. "Asking for myself and definitely not a friend."

 

"I will not be making the first move. First, an apology has to be made, then I'll consider it," Ray said.

 

"Petty. I like it," Jeremy smiled.

 

"I'll be exactly as petty as I please," Ray said. "But you can have visitation with Charlie, because it was really a dick move leaving her behind, and I can't thank you enough for taking good care of her."

 

"She only told you the good stories, then," Jeremy laughed.

 

"Of course," Ray said. "Nothing but respect for MY Rimmy Tim." Jeremy cracked up again. "Dude, the super villain alter ego is over-played."

 

"Rimmy Tim's not a villain, he's a hero!" Jeremy insisted.

 

"With that color scheme? He's the villain of the fashion police, for sure," Ray said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i just remembered this chapter doesn't have a good solid ending  
> anyway thats my shit for today/this week/month/year probably
> 
> next time: don't get excited or anything but maybe a solid interaction between ray and ryan? hopefully some sweet sweet reconciliatory action. elton john's can you feel the love tonight plays softly in the background. the real version with the whole kings and vagabonds shebang.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter starts the morning after the last chapter leaves off, aka the morning after the halloween party, which im only pointing out because it's not super obvious

Settling back into penthouse life was something Ray didn’t know if he could do yet.  Yes, the crew were his friends, and especially Jeremy with Charlie, and no, Ray wasn’t holding anything against Ryan, but they’d yet to have a single word between them, and the last thing Ray knew about him was that he’d been thrown against the wall.

 

If Ray was going to be with the crew again (and he did want to), then he was going to have to be a Man and Suck It Up.

 

Easier said than done in most situations.

 

Fortunately, it seemed someone had tipped Ryan off (probably either Jeremy or Meg, or possibly Ryan had decided it himself), and Ryan was curiously missing from the penthouse the next day.  Ryan played games with Lindsay, Michael, and Jeremy on the couch in the living room.  Meg and Gavin were inexplicably not there.  Trevor showed up at some point as well.  He was finally off oxygen, according to Michael and Jeremy, and he was going to be taking over Lindsay’s job in the next week or so.  When Lindsay got her sight fully back, she was going to start doing real jobs like main crew.

 

“She deserves it,” Ray agreed.  “No one’s put in more work for this crew than Lindsay.  Paperwork sucks, man.”

 

“Right?!” Lindsay exclaimed.  She was getting her ass kicked in the game because you generally have to be able to see fairly well to play any FPS, but every once in a while she’d get a really lucky shot – something about her natural wild card ability and, of course, crack hands.

 

“Yo, lemme in,” Trevor said, and Lindsay handed him her controller, and Trevor squeezed in between Jeremy and Michael on the couch.

 

“You can just ask for my seat,” Lindsay said, getting up and moving to the chair.

 

“I’m not trying to take your spot, baby girl,” Trevor told her.

 

“Quick question,” Matt said, sleepily entering the room despite the fact that it was much past noon, “why do you keep calling people baby girl?”

 

“Gotta make it weird, Matt,” Trevor replied.  “Why, are you jealous?”

 

“You wish I was jealous,” Matt replied, stumbling, still half asleep, to the kitchen.

 

“Geoff made lunch like an hour and a half ago, there might be leftovers in the fridge,” Jeremy called over to him.  Matt gave a thumbs up over his shoulder as he opened the fridge.

 

“Are we holding new Lads tryouts to replace Gavin? Where is he?” Trevor asked.

 

“Haven’t seen him since last night,” Michael said.  “Probably went home.”

 

“He’s been spending a lot of time ‘at home’ for a guy who lives here,” Jeremy said.

 

“Home, Meg’s place, my house, wherever he is, that’s his home,” Michael said.  “You know Gavin, he leaves his shit everywhere.”

 

"He left two pairs of sunglasses and a pair of shorts at my apartment in Austin," Ray chimed in.

 

"Speaking of that, are you back now?" Matt asked from the kitchen, his mouth full of food he was eating directly out of the fridge like an animal.

 

"Maybe. We'll see how it goes," Ray replied.

 

*

 

Trevor had jobs for everyone, and now that Ray was "back", "everyone" included Ray as well.

 

"Which, if you think about it, is weird, because Treycs and Alfredo were practically fucking," Michael said as Ray parkoured his way over to the spot Trevor had decided would be Ray's sniper perch.

 

"They probably have more time for that now Alfredo's not on jobs," Gavin pointed out.

 

"The thing about Alfreyco is we all want it to happen," Jack chimed in. "Especially Trevor, and maybe Fredo's not into it."

 

"It being Trevor," Gavin added helpfully.

 

“I can hear you guys," Trevor sighed in their comms.

 

"Oh, good. We'd love to hear your opinion on why Fredo won't fuck you," Ray said.

 

"Shut up," Trevor said, and they could tell he was embarrassed.

 

"I can ask him at the next sniper get-together, if you want," Ray said.

 

"Snipers have get-togethers now?" Jack asked.

 

"Of course," Jeremy piped up. "How else would they narrow down the competition?"

 

"Wait..." Gavin said, frowning, trying to keep up.

 

"Yes, Gav, Jeremy is implying that every few months all the snipers in Los Santos get together and try to kill each other for fun," Michael clarified. Gavin still was having trouble grasping this.

 

"I've said it before, I'll say it again, snipers are a dime a dozen in Los Santos. It wouldn't be so bad if someone did thin the ranks," Ray agreed.

 

"We could do that," Jeremy said to Ray.

 

"Of course we could," Ray said. "You, me, Fredo, maybe Gavvy if he gets his head out of his ass, Jack's not a bad shot..."

 

"Jack can fly the helicopter," Jeremy said.

 

"Alright, we're going sniper hunting in a helicopter now," Jack said.

 

"Not now, Jack, don't be ridiculous. We've got work to do," Michael said.

 

"If you could all shut up and work, that'd be great," Trevor shouted.

 

"New boss is not happy," Ray joked.

 

"He's starting to sound like Geoff," Jack said.

 

"Sounds like we need to wear all that authority out of Trevor," Gavin said.

 

"I have zip ties," Michael suggested.

 

"I can get out of zipties," Trevor sighed.

 

"Not when we're done with you," Gavin said.

 

"Is that a threat?" Trevor asked.

 

"It's a promise," Jeremy said.

 

"Jesus, I'm scared, and I'm not even involved in this," Matt said. "Please don't come for me. I'm only here because Geoff gives me food."

 

**

 

While Jack and the Lads were out hitting the jewelry store, which was really just a distraction for the Lads, Geoff and Ryan were having a more meaningful conversation out to lunch. There was a decent burger place in Little Seoul, which seemed counterintuitive, but even Jack agreed there was no better barbecue place in Los Santos.

 

“Cut the bullshit, Geoff, what’s with the personal lunch? Why are we here?  Are you firing me?” Ryan finally asked after they’d placed their orders.

 

“What? Of course not,” Geoff said.

 

“I’m not saying I blame you,” Ryan said.

 

“Well… Me neither, but no.  I want to know what your plan is,” Geoff said.  “You can’t keep avoiding him forever.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I can, actually.”

 

“Maybe you _can_ , but I’m not going to let you.  So what’s your plan?” Geoff asked again.

"Considering how long I've had to think about it, you would think I'd have a plan by now, wouldn't you?" Ryan asked, sipping his Diet Coke.

 

"Yes."

 

"I'm open to ideas," Ryan said.

 

"Jack suggested forcing the two of you into a work related situation," Geoff said. "But Michael pointed out that Ray left because he wasn't safe here, so probably just shoving the two of you into a closet until you settle things isn't a good idea." Ryan didn't respond to that so Geoff continued. "There are work related situations we can put you two in where Ray wouldn't be in your danger zone. Jeremy volunteered to chaperone."

 

"You know I haven't hurt anyone in this crew since I shot Michael, and he asked for it, and I've been completely clean for two months," Ryan said.

 

"I know that, but Ray doesn't," Geoff said.

 

"You want to send him out with me and Jeremy on a job?" Ryan asked.

 

"I'm suggesting it," Geoff said. "With surveillance."

 

"Who's on surveillance?" Ryan asked.

 

"Probably Matt Bragg or Trevor," Geoff said.

 

"What about Gavin?" Ryan asked.

 

"Yeah? You want Gavin?" Geoff asked.

 

"I think he would make Ray more comfortable. Gavin or Michael," Ryan said.

 

"Of course there's always the possibility Ray won't go at all. I'm not about to blindside him," Geoff said. "Or you could just talk to each other at the house like normal people."

 

"He doesn't want to talk to me," Ryan said. "I lost my chance with him. Yeah, I think we'll be able to get along and work together, but I don't think we'll ever be a couple again."

 

"Maybe you're right," Geoff agreed.

 

"And I don't want to do anything to make him leave again, or worse, he could join one of the other crews here, funhaus or the roosters..." Ryan said.

 

"Let's not be ridiculous," Geoff scoffed. "He might go back to Austin, but he's not going to defect. He's out with Jack and the other Lads right now."

 

"You're my boss and I do what you tell me to do, and that's my line when this goes poorly," Ryan said. Geoff took this as blanket permission to do whatever he wanted.

 

*

 

Ray was not opposed to the idea of running jobs with the battle buddies. He and Jeremy were friends, and the only thing wrong with Ryan is that he'd thrown Ray across a room that one time. And almost stabbed him that other time.

 

Ray was apprehensive, but ready to go back to work. He'd been gone long enough, it was time to cut the bullshit and stop pretending he was going to leave again. And that's what he'd tell Geoff later if this went poorly, and it undoubtedly would go wrong in some way or another.

 

Ray sat against the wall of the penthouse garage, next to Michael's Kuruma and what Jeremy called 'the armored Tim', which was another Kuruma, but hideously painted orange and purple. Of course. Ray only knew bare bones about the job they were going on, but figured Jeremy would fill him in on the way. Ray could see the elevator from where he was sitting, but the garage was devoid of people besides himself.

 

Naturally, Ray thought 'what the hell' and started packing a bowl. Just as he finished, the elevator dinged open and Jeremy walked into the garage, as usual in the purple blazer/orange shirt/yellow pants/white cowboy hat atrocity.

 

"Sup," Jeremy called over, spotting Ray on the floor. Ray flicked his lighter with his right hand and lit his bowl, gesturing at Jeremy as if to ask if he wanted some. "No thanks," Jeremy said, sitting down next to him.

 

"Suh, dude?" Ray asked, exhaling away from Jeremy, because he wasn't an asshole.

 

"Just looking for you," Jeremy said, taking his hat off his head for something to fiddle with.

 

"You found me," Ray replied.

 

"You're really okay with coming?" Jeremy asked.

 

"That's to be determined, but I'm coming anyway," Ray said.

 

"Gavin's running surveillance for us," Jeremy said. He held out one of the new comms for Ray. "These are new. There's three channels and an open channel. On, off, and push to talk. We'll just be using open channel and on." Ray accepted the comm from Jeremy but didn't put it in his ear yet.

 

"Can they hear us right now?" Ray asked. Jeremy shook his head. His comm was off. "He's changed."

 

"Ryan? Yeah, he's been through a lot," Jeremy said. "After you left, they didn't want to leave me alone with him, especially if he was going to be prone to violent outbursts like that, but no one else could handle being his partner. We work well together, and he's been clean since before the last heist."

 

"Clean?" Ray asked.

 

"No kills, no injuries," Jeremy said. "Not even to immortals."

 

"Really?" Ray asked. "For how long?"

 

"Two months," Jeremy said. "I know it hasn't been easy for him, but he's really trying to take this seriously."

 

The elevator dinged again and there was the Vagabond, his black hair in a ponytail, white skull painted on his face menacingly, black leather jacket zipped this time, and slightly tighter jeans than Ray remembered.

 

"Can I ask what the fuck is with the skull?" Ray muttered to Jeremy.

 

"It was my design, do you like it?" Jeremy asked, beaming, as he jumped to his feet and offered a hand to pull Ray to his.

 

"Kinda freaky," Ray said.

 

"That's the point," Jeremy said. Ray stuffed his bowl in his pocket and crammed his comm onto his ear as Ryan silently got behind the wheel of the black Kuruma. Jeremy and Ray both got in the back seat and then they were on their way.

 

"So Geoff didn't brief me," Ray said to Jeremy.

 

"Oh. Just take out the cameras," Jeremy said. "Uh... Turn on your earpiece, Gavin's talking to you."

 

"What up, Gavvy?" Ray asked, turning his comm on.

 

"There are four cameras you need to blow. They're on the perimeter of the property, and it should be no problem for you," Gavin said. "Supposedly I can - hang on - Matt, how do I-"

 

"It's not rocket science, Gavin," Ryan sighed.

 

"I bloody know it's not rocket science, Ryan, do I look like Trevor to you?" Gavin shot back. They couldn't hear what he was saying, but Matt Bragg seemed to be showing Gavin how to send Ray the map and the briefing material. Ray jumped when the blinking icon of an envelope showed up in his glasses. He'd completely forgotten they did more than just zoom. "There. Did you get that?"

 

"Yeah," Ray said, fiddling with the buttons on his glasses so he could open the files. "Do my glasses have a hard drive?"

 

"16 gigs," Ryan said.

 

"Jesus," Ray replied. "Alright, yeah, I can do that easy."

 

"After the cameras are out, your job is to keep anyone from getting in the building after us," Jeremy said. "We won't be too long, it's a pretty simple search and destroy."

 

"Sounds kinda boring," Ray said.

 

"It is," Jeremy said. "We've done three of these a week for a month now. Just pisses people off. A little incendiary bomb here, a little spray paint there... It's a real fancy way of keeping us busy without us actually having to do anything."

 

"Then why do it?" Ray asked.

 

"Because when Geoff fucked off, people didn't think Jack could still run a crew, and they're fuckin wrong," Ryan said.

 

"Fair enough," Ray said.

 

Ray popped all the cameras within a minute of hitting the roof. It was in no way complicated and Ray thought Jeremy could probably pull off this entire job on his own.

 

"You're clear on my end," Ray said. Ryan and Jeremy headed into the building. Ray sat down, still with a good angle on the entrances, in case someone showed up. It took Ryan and Jeremy about 20 minutes to do whatever they had to do, and thankfully no one showed up before Jeremy called Ray off the roof.

 

"We're coming through the door in two minutes, get in the car," Jeremy announced.

 

Gavin, who'd been almost silent the entire time, (and Ray put together that he was only surveilling them for Ray's comfort), piped up, "LSPD just deployed from downtown headquarters. ETA three minutes."

 

"Ray, how fast can you tag?" Ryan asked, hurried.

 

"Fast enough," Ray replied, sliding down the ladder from the roof.

 

"Green paint in the car," Jeremy said.

 

"Roger that," Ray said, opening the passenger door and seeing a few bottles of spray paint on the floor. He took the green and sprayed the Fake AH logo on the side of the building, finishing just as Ryan and Jeremy ran out in a hurry.

 

"Time to go!" Ryan exclaimed, slamming a detonator as he reached the car. Ray heard the boom, but the structure didn't collapse, and he managed to hop in the front passenger seat just as Ryan was pulling away.

 

"Nice," Jeremy commented from the back seat. They could just hear the sirens starting to come for them.

 

"Gavin, are they going to catch us? Do I need to lay down some prox mines?" Ryan asked.

 

"Uh..." Gavin said, caught off guard. Ray's glasses interfaced with Matt's computer, giving him ETAs and mapping potential escape routes.

 

"Take the jump into the drainage ditch," Ray suggested, quickly scanning his map. "We can lose them there."

 

"Gavin?" Jeremy asked, readying prox mines.

 

"Yeah, what X-Ray said," Gavin agreed.

 

Ryan followed Ray's instruction without hesitation, taking the shortcut across the drainage ditch some people considered a river.

 

"Where's the exit?" Ryan asked Ray.

 

"It's uh..." Ray said, scanning the wildly blinking map, and not seeing it.

 

"Ray, how do I get out of this hellscape?" Ryan asked, more insistently.

 

"I don't know! Hang on!" Ray replied.

 

"Ahead, on the left," Gavin said. "It'll drop you back by the hospital."

 

"Thank you," Ryan said, pulling a hard left. Ray's threat detector calmed down, and they were all clear when Ryan pulled back onto Alta St.

 

Ryan parked the car back in the same spot in the garage and got out. Ray and Jeremy also got out. Jeremy stopped when Ray did, but Ray sent him on ahead with a, "don't wait up, I'm gonna smoke outside." Jeremy nodded and headed to the elevator. Ray could hear Jeremy and Ryan talking quietly as he headed outside. Ray had just settled on the curb to light his bowl again when he heard the door open and close behind him. He didn't have to turn around to know it was Ryan. Now that Ray had a mini map in the corner of his vision, Ryan had his own icon on it, a black skull. Ryan had no doubt programmed them all with different icons. The amount of thought he'd put into the programming was really incredible.

 

"Can I help you?" Ray asked as Ryan approached him.

 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Ryan said.

 

"It was a stressful situation," Ray shrugged. "Happens to everyone."

 

"You smoke now?" Ryan asked, crossing in front of Ray to stand in the parking lot a few feet away from him.

 

"Why not," Ray replied.

 

"I, uh, I'm sorry for everything," Ryan said, not making eye contact with Ray. "I don't want things to be so weird between us that we can't work together anymore."

 

"Is that what Geoff told you? You have to make nice because he doesn't want a hostile work environment?" Ray asked.

 

"What? No," Ryan said, finally looking at Ray. "No, I really mean it."

 

"Jeremy says you've been clean for two months," Ray said.

 

"Yeah."

 

"That's really good," Ray said. "It can't be easy for you."

 

"Uh... No, it hasn't been," Ryan said. "Jeremy's a big help, though."

 

"Yeah, I'm worried he's a little trigger happy to be honest," Ray said.

 

"Oh, you're telling me?" Ryan scoffed. "Geoff won't listen to me. Even Michael blew me off, but I know he's concerned too."

 

"What will happen to you if Geoff takes your partner out of action?" Ray asked.

 

"I guess I'd have to get a new partner," Ryan said. Ray raised a questioning eyebrow and Ryan smiled, contorting the skull painted on his face. He was flirting and if Ray wasn't so relieved that it was this easy to talk to Ryan after everything that had happened, he'd be beside himself.

 

"I don't know if you'd want me as a partner," Ray joked in return. "I have an idea for an all super soaker heist with pretty high stakes." Ryan chuckled.

 

"I'm glad you're back," Ryan said.

 

"I'm glad you've got your sense of humor back," Ray said. "For the record, I don't like the new look as much."

 

"Tough," Ryan replied. "You wanna get some food?"

 

"Just the two of us?" Ray asked.

 

"Yeah, unless you need parental supervision," Ryan said.

 

"No, I'm good. Where are we eating?" Ray asked.

 

"I'm thinking Denny's in our jeans," Ryan said.

 

"You sure know how to butter my egg rolls," Ray said. "Deal."

 

"Hey guys, just a heads up, Gavin's been gone for a while, but you both still have your comms on," Matt's voice floated into their comms.

 

"Now he tells us," Ray rolled his eyes, reaching up to turn his comm off.  Ryan pulled his out of his ear and stuffed it in the pocket of his new leather jacket.  “Did I mention I don’t like the new jacket?”

 

“You did,” Ryan said. 

 

“Are we really going to Denny’s?” Ray asked.

 

“Why not? What’s a terrible greasy burger between coworkers?” Ryan asked.

 

“You _know_ why not,” Ray said.  “It’s the same reason you won’t say it: you’re scared.  You’re scared you’ll do something, you’ll fuck up, and I’ll leave again.  And maybe this time the crew won’t be so forgiving.”

 

“I think you’re projecting, and you’re banking pretty heavily on the assumption that I even want you back,” Ryan said.  “The fact of the matter is, we were together for less than three months, and you’ve been gone for more than four.  Maybe I’ve moved on.”

 

“Well, you haven’t, and you’re not in a position to play hard-to-get, Ryan,” Ray shot back at him.

 

“I’m surprised Charlie even remembers you,” Ryan said.  Ray stopped short and raised his eyebrows at Ryan in surprise, as if to say ‘really?? You’re going there?’.

 

“Really??  You’re going there?” Ray asked.  Ryan gave a small innocent shrug.  “I’d be pretty surprised if Charlie went to either of us, given the option of being with Jeremy.  Quite frankly, I don’t think we’d choose each other either, given the option of Jeremy.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan asked.

 

“That’s what you do.  You move on.  To the newer, younger model.  And that’s Jeremy.  He’s the new hotness, right?  And I’m just someone who was fun to have around for a few weeks,” Ray said.

 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard?” Ryan replied.

 

“You can cut the shit, Meg already told me that’s what you do.  First Jack, then Meg, Me, now Jeremy.  Who’s next?  Mica Burton?” Ray asked.

 

“She’s – a child,” Ryan protested.

 

“But you can’t cut any of us loose, oh no, you have to keep us around, to watch what we can’t have,” Ray said.  “I’m sure as shit not gonna stick around and just _watch–_ ”

 

“You can think whatever you want, but it doesn’t make any of your wild accusations true,” Ryan said, stern but even.  “I’m going upstairs.”  Ryan walked straight passed Ray, very calmly, to the garage door.

 

“Hey, Rye?” Ray called without turning around.

 

“Yes?” Ryan asked, still unimpressed.

 

“You passed the test.  Let’s go to Denny’s,” Ray said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ray's glasses have twice the hard drive of my phone, and half of what my first laptop had, which is sad in a lot of ways tbh.
> 
> also this was my note from the end of this chapter:  
> Cliffhanger. Nice™.  
> CLIFF HANGER! HANGING FROM A CLIFF! And THAT’S WHY HES CALLED CLIFF HANGER!!!!!
> 
> i don't really think it's clear why this is a cliffhanger until you read the next chapter.  
> next time: what i promised for this time: raywood. for real. i promise. it's already written.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 31: aka we're just dragging this mf out at this point aka still no end in sight folks lmao trust me i wish i could write something else but i like this universe too much fight me
> 
> warnings this chapter for situational peril and author not really knowing what people who live in LA think is cold and making some grand assumptions.
> 
> oh and: ryan briefly says something shitty about geoff being a recovering alcoholic and i just want to make it clear that i do not agree with the character's opinions, i'm sure ryan does not share these opinions about geoff, and i could not be prouder of geoff for staying sober. (in my experience, it is not easy.)

“I passed… the test?” Ryan asked as he and Ray rode the elevator up to the penthouse.  Just seconds had passed since the last chapter.

 

“Yeah,” Ray said, content that this was enough of an explanation.

 

“You wanna elaborate on that?” Ryan asked.

 

“Congratulations?” Ray offered with a cute grin.  Ryan was not amused.  Without even sparing it a glance, he slammed the emergency stop button in the elevator.

 

“You wanna elaborate more now?” Ryan asked.  His tone was still even, but with a hint of ice.  Ryan’s rage had always been a cold one.

 

“I wanted to see if I could rile you up,” Ray said, nervous now, because this situation was falling from his control.  Ryan was bigger, stronger, arguably dangerous, and now angry, and Ray was now trapped in a very small elevator with him, and honestly, Ray’s two skills were making headshots from a great distance and sucking dick.  Unfortunately, Ray was armed only with his rifle (which might only be good for getting one good whack to Ryan’s head with) and he wasn’t entirely sure sucking dick could get him out of this situation either.

 

“Yeah?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ray said, trying to keep his voice from changing with fear.

 

“So you just made up stuff that you thought would push my buttons,” Ryan said, and he didn’t sound any less like a villain.

 

“I’ve had a long time to think about it,” Ray tried to joke, but it fell flat.

 

“And you thought, for some reason, that if you accused me of running off with Mica Burton – she’s 15, by the way – and I didn’t react, that would be some kind of litmus test for if you could… I don’t know, _trust me_?” Ryan asked.  Ray was pretty sure Mica was actually 17, but this didn’t seem like the right venue to argue that point.

 

“I don’t know what a litmus test is, but when you say it like that I don’t come out as the good guy,” Ray replied.  It was then that he realized that his glasses were going to help him through this situation.  Without Ray’s input at all, as if his very sight was being monitored by some other worldly force, Ray’s glasses had started to scan Ryan for possible weak points, as well as devising an exit strategy.  That wasn’t really what Ray wanted, but if he could come up with a way to possibly communicate with the glasses (or the person behind them), he could probably gain the upper hand in this.  The problem?  Glasses didn’t have audio.

 

“It doesn’t matter what a litmus test is,” Ryan said, frustrated.  “It matters what you said.”

 

“Yeah?” Ray asked.  He could get angry too.  He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms, adjusting his glasses and knocking the power button on his comm back to ‘on’ as he did so.  Ryan didn’t react as if he’d noticed, so Ray thought he was probably clear.  “And what did I say?”

 

“When you said that neither of us would pick the other over Jeremy,” Ryan said.

 

“I love Lil J!” Ray said.  “He’s like a little brother to me, but if circumstances were different and he wasn’t with Matt Bragg, who knows what might be the new hotness?”

 

“Thanks, pal,” Jeremy’s quiet, monotone voice in Ray’s ear.  “How about you stop trying to provoke a fight while I’m trying to start an elevator?”

 

“If circumstances were different, you might still be with Gavin,” Ryan said dryly.  Ray’s glasses blinked a very impressive _no weaknesses found_ and Ray heard Jeremy groan in frustration.  As if both of them didn’t already know that. “Don’t give me the bullshit that you were just trying to make me angry to see if I’d fight back.”

 

“That’s… what I was doing,” Ray said.  “You kinda caught me off guard with the elevator thing.  I’ll admit, I didn’t see this coming and you’ve got me pretty cornered in here.”

 

“Ray, I know this is stressful, but I only have a connection with your glasses as long as they’re bluetoothed to your phone, and apparently that drains the battery much faster than I thought it did,” Jeremy said, slightly panicky.  Ray pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the battery – the lock screen flashed for a second, then went black.  Dead.  Shit.

 

“Well, you did it.  Congratulations, you got me angry.  Now what’s your plan, Einstein?” Ryan asked.

 

“Uh… Denny’s?” Ray asked with what he assumed was a cheeky grin.

 

“Can you not rise to the bait like _one time_ , anyone in this crew?” Matt Bragg groaned in Ray’s earpiece.  “Jesus.”

 

“And what the fuck did you mean when you started the list of people whose lives I’ve allegedly ruined with _Jack_?” Ryan asked, going back to angry.

 

“I was trying to make you angry!” Ray insisted.

 

“You succeeded!” Ryan replied.  “You can take your damn earpiece off too.”  He reached for Ray’s ear and swiped the comm off of it.  “You can stop fucking worrying about me, Jeremy.  I do what I want,” Ryan said into the comm before turning it off and throwing it onto the floor.  Ray was getting like super worried now.

 

*

 

“Ray?? Ray!” Jeremy screamed, but to no response.  “Matt, get the fucking elevator working _now_!” Matt whizzed through the buttons on his computer, but trying to remote reprogram an elevator was not his main skill.  Seconds seemed like hours as they ticked by while Jeremy sat in the conference room of a practically deserted penthouse, uselessly pushing buttons on his computer.

 

“It’s moving, I got it,” Matt finally said.  Jeremy had never run faster as he tore out of the conference room, out the penthouse door, and into the small hallway that led to the elevator.  His heart pounded as he waited for the elevator to ding and open.  He raised his combat pistol, ready to shoot-

 

The doors of the elevator dinged open and Jeremy was shocked to see Ryan in the back corner with Ray pressed against him, _very_ clearly making out.  Jeremy felt somewhat foolish standing there with his gun out, but he lowered it, clearing his throat loudly.

 

“Ahem.”

 

Ray and Ryan both jumped and turned to look at him.  Ray’s face flushed and Ryan was pretty embarrassed too, under the smudged face paint. 

 

“I’ll be honest, I was not expecting that,” Jeremy said.

 

*

 

INT. ELEVATOR – THREE MINUTES EARLIER

 

Ryan threw Ray’s comm onto the floor.  “Why do you want me to be angry so badly?”

 

“Because I still love you!” Ray finally screamed.  “And if you were angry, then I could be angry, and if I was angry, maybe I could stop hyper-fixating on the fact that I feel like I let you down somehow, because I promised to be there for you unconditionally, and then I ran away because dumb baby broken immortal is scared of getting a boo-boo.”  Ryan was shocked into silence for a few seconds.  Finally:

 

“I love you too,” Ryan said.  Ray stared at him.

 

“That’s what you took from that?” Ray asked.

 

“That’s what mattered,” Ryan said.  Ray blinked.  He gravitated toward Ryan as if by some kind of magnetic force.  It was entrancing, like their first kiss had been, all those months ago, on Ryan’s couch, in his apartment, back when he was just Ryan the IT Guy, and nothing was complicated, and Ray would definitely admit, he hadn’t really been on his hickey game as much as past Ray would have hoped.

 

Their lips met and metaphorical fireworks went off.  Elton John astral projected into the elevator to sing the entirety of his hit song _Can You Feel The Love Tonight?_ to them (the real version, with the whole kings and vagabonds shebang, all 4 minutes and 3 seconds of it) in a single instant.  The elevator started moving again, not that they much noticed, much more interested with this newfound kissing.

 

The elevator doors opened. Jeremy stood there, pointing a gun at them, ready to defend anyone who needed defending, and not seeing anyone who fit that category.  Ray and Ryan parted from each other, embarrassed at being caught.

 

“I’ll be honest, I was not expecting that,” Jeremy said.

 

“I’m gonna, um… plug in my phone,” Ray said, very embarrassed, running passed Jeremy into the penthouse, probably to wash his face of the paint that had rubbed off on it.

 

Ryan opened his mouth as if to defend their actions to Jeremy, but Jeremy waved him off.

 

"No explanation needed, pal," Jeremy said. "You worked it out. Congratulations. _What do you mean_ , you think I'm trigger happy?"

 

"Ray said that, not me!" Ryan exclaimed.

 

"You agreed with him," Jeremy said.

 

"I don't want you to end up like me! I'm not allowed to worry about you?" Ryan asked.

 

"I'm not your boyfriend, and I _guess_ I'm barely even your partner," Jeremy said, turning around to go back into the penthouse.

 

"What??" Ryan asked, hurrying after Jeremy as he slowly made his way through the house, continuing to talk. "What do you mean your barely my partner? You are my partner. We're battle buddies."

 

"Now that Ray's back and you're dating again, you're going to be partners with him. You know, the R&R Connection," Jeremy said.

 

"First of all, Ray and I haven't even begun talking about where our relationship is right now, and second, Michael requested Ray as his new partner," Ryan said.

 

"What about Gavin?" Jeremy asked, suspiciously.

 

"Team Losers is hitting the streets as soon as Lindsay can see well enough to pass her assessments," Ryan said. "Probably before that if I know anything about Lindsay."

 

"Do you think Geoff is going to bench me?" Jeremy asked. He sounded scared. "He doesn't need me like he needs you."

 

"No, I don't think Geoff will bench you, you're the favorite son," Ryan said.

 

"Besides Michael," Jeremy said.

 

"Of course. That's a given," Ryan agreed. "And of course he needs you. He needs all of us. And, more importantly than that, Geoff isn't calling many of the shots right now. It's more or less Jack, with a lot of help from Trevor and Lindsay."

 

"Trevor has homework," Jeremy said. "With his injuries and taking over for Lindsay, he's not going to pass this semester."

 

"Don't worry about Trevor's homework," Ryan said. "Worry about yourself. Even if Geoff won't bench you, maybe you should try to be more conscious of your bullets."

 

"This coming from you?" Jeremy scoffed. "You've only been clean two months, and you certainly won't stay that way forever. Not in this crew. Not in this city. Not with your power. Geoff has a lot more promise for staying sober than you do never shooting anyone again."

 

"You don't believe in me," Ryan said, a statement, a statement that was borderline heartbreaking in the way he said it, though Ryan's heart was the one that was breaking. "You don't think I can do this. You don't-" He spotted the combat pistol still in Jeremy's right hand. "You were going to shoot me?"

 

"If you had hurt Ray again, yes," Jeremy said. "That's my job. I'm his protection detail tonight."

 

"That's why Michael wants to be his new partner," Ryan said. "No one trusts me. None of you."

 

“It’s just my job, Ryan,” Jeremy repeated, finally entering his bedroom and closing the door behind him.  Ryan was left, annoyed, in the hallway.

 

The penthouse seemed deserted, save for the three of them.  Ryan wondered vaguely (though he didn’t much care) where Geoff, Griffon, and Jack were, as they didn’t have other apartments to go to and it was fairly late in the evening.  Gavin had gotten off surveillance duty and gone back to Michael’s place, where the rest of his crew were spending the evening.  Trevor was MIA, and Matt was probably on his way back.  Jeremy had gone into his room, and Ryan decided he could probably go to his room as well.  Or back to his apartment.  Since Ray had moved back into the penthouse, Ryan had been spending more nights at his apartment again, to reduce the risk of an uncomfortable situation.  Geoff trusted him not to have to keep a surveillance detail on him 24/7, but Ryan didn’t like it.  He was cut off from the crew, from his friends, and he knew that surrounding himself with good people was as good a tactic as any to keep his homicidal thoughts in check.  He still had them, of course he did, but he treated them with the same lack of respect he usually reserved for Gavin.

 

A door behind Ryan opened rather noisily and Ryan turned to see Ray looking at him from down the hallway.

 

"You okay?" Ray asked Ryan.

 

"No one trusts me," Ryan said quietly, making no move to close the gap between himself and Ray. "I know I've never done myself any favors in that field, but I thought at least Jeremy..."

 

"I trust you," Ray cut in.

 

"You shouldn't," Ryan responded.

 

"So sue me," Ray shrugged. "If there's anything I learned out on my own, it's that I really shouldn't take this crew for granted. Everyone here, everyone, has done a lot for me and given me opportunities that I wouldn't have had otherwise."

 

"Being the most wanted sniper in Los Santos is filed as an opportunity now?" Ryan asked. "I feel like you could have got that from the streets."

 

"Second most," Ray corrected him, snapping his fingers as he took a few steps towards Ryan. "I looked it up, they are not happy with the Sauce."

 

"Between him and you and Caiti, I don't think we need any more snipers in the crew," Ryan agreed.

 

"Yeah, like Geoff and Jack would ever let me or Caiti do anything but," Ray rolled his eyes. "Remember how many times I got shot the last time I was ground level?"

 

"Four," Ryan said.

 

"And how long was I out?"

 

"A week?" Ryan guessed. "I don't think you needed all that time, though."

 

"Do you want to get out of here? Do you wanna go someplace? Just us, no babysitters?" Ray asked.

 

"They always know where I am," Ryan sighed.

 

"Okay, well, take off your ankle monitor, and let's go," Ray said.

 

"That's not exactly how it works," Ryan said. "But... Fuck it. Yeah, let's go."

 

"Can we take the Zentorno?" Ray asked.

 

"Uh... Yeah, of course. It's at my place, though," Ryan said.

 

"Alright, so we walk to your place," Ray agreed.

 

"Are we taking Charlie?" Ryan asked. Ray nodded.

 

"Yeah, where is she? I thought she was in my room," Ray said.

 

"I saw her in the living room on my way in," Ryan said.

 

"Wash that ridiculous bullshit off your face and let's go," Ray said, bouncing up and down in excitement.

 

"I'll be right out. Go wrangle the doge," Ryan said, taking the few steps to his room quickly and disappearing.

 

Ray went to the living room, where Charlie had fallen asleep by the window.

 

"Charles, it's time to go for a walk with your dads," Ray said, scratching her belly. She was on her feet in seconds, ready to go. Ray picked up her leash from a hook near the door and waited for Ryan, who only took another brief minute to emerge from the hall, dad jeans, OG Vagabond jacket, and ... well, Ray would get used to the black hair, he thought.

 

"Ready to go, Charlie?" Ryan asked, bending to scratch her ears as he approached. She licked his hand.

 

The newly reunited family of three exited the penthouse and waited for the elevator. When it dinged and opened at the top floor, Matt Bragg was the only occupant. He looked between Ray and Ryan, but didn't say anything. He also didn't move to exit the elevator.

 

"Move?" Ryan suggested. Charlie made her way into the elevator and sat in front of the control panel.

 

"Where are you headed?" Matt asked.

 

"Out," Ray said.

 

"Are you sure?" Matt asked, trying to stand his ground, but even though he was (at 6'1) standing eye to eye with Ryan, staring down the Vagabond was still terrifying.

 

"Yes," Ray insisted, pushing Matt out of the way, and getting into the elevator.

 

"Problem?" Ryan asked Matt.

 

"N-no, sir," Matt said, swallowing thickly and stepping aside.

 

"Good. I was afraid I'd have to threaten you," Ryan chuckled.

 

"Is it, uh, is it business? Do you need Jeremy's help?" Matt asked uselessly.

 

"I think this is our little secret," Ryan told him as the doors shut. Matt did not like that.

 

Ray barely noticed anything had happened.

 

"What's his problem?" Ray asked as they rode the elevator down.

 

"I told you, they always know where I am," Ryan said.

 

"Geoff microchipped you?" Ray asked. Ryan laughed, genuine.

 

"Of course not. At least - that I know of. I should have that checked, probably," Ryan laughed. "No, they track the GPS in my phone. But I can turn it off."

 

"And they didn't consider that a possibility?" Ray laughed.

 

"Well... I'll probably get in a lot of trouble for it. But it's worth it," Ryan said, fiddling with his phone, presumably turning off the GPS. "You're worth it."

 

Ray didn't know what to say to that, but felt his face heating up and he looked down at Charlie, who was excited to be going for a walk and completely oblivious to what the humans were talking about, because she was, in fact, a dog. The black skull in Ray's mini map abruptly disappeared.

 

"There. Should be off the radar," Ryan said.

 

"Yeah. You're gone," Ray said.

 

"How do - oh, did they get your map synced up?" Ryan asked, looking up. "That's how you knew where to go."

 

"Yeah. Can my icon be anything I want?" Ray asked.

 

"Yeah. We can customize everyone's icons for you if you want," Ryan said.

 

"A brown crown," Ray said.

 

"Yeah? You like crowns now? Not roses anymore?" Ryan asked. The elevator doors dinged and opened at the street level and Charlie nearly jumped the gun, ready to go.

 

"I still like roses," Ray assured him.

 

They started the half mile or so trek up to Vinewood to Ryan's apartment. Charlie would stop to sniff at something and then start sprinting ahead of them, and it was easy to be a couple with a dog, no different from anyone else.

 

"It does feel weird to not have my rifle," Ray admitted as they walked into Ryan's garage.

 

"Are you armed at all?" Ryan asked. Ray pulled his pistol from his waistband and waved it briefly before putting it back.

 

"I'm always armed. I'm a Ramsey boy," Ray said. "I've been armed every day of my life since Gavin dropped out of high school."

 

"I'm not armed," Ryan said, revealing his jacket pockets were empty and there was clearly nothing at his waist. "Not allowed to be."

 

"Must have taken some getting used to," Ray remarked as he slid into the passenger seat. Charlie climbed on his lap. Ryan got in the driver’s seat.

 

"It did," Ryan said. "I carried unloaded guns for a bit, then Jack got me a prop gun to use for a while, and Jeremy tried buying me nerf weapons... It's all just an excuse, though."

 

"You've really been clean for two months?" Ray asked.

 

"Sure have," Ryan agreed. "And the month before that was only immortals, and I was mostly clean for a week or two before that."

 

"You gonna stick with that forever?" Ray asked.

 

"I might," Ryan said. "I think I could. It wouldn't be too bad. But I probably won't." Ray made a noise of acknowledgement. "Are you really okay with being around me?"

 

Ray knew. He knew he was acting like a kid who breaks up with their boyfriend at recess but still sits next to them on the bus home, or really anyone who goes back with their partner after being mad at them for 'long enough'. He didn't think he was making a good decision, but that didn't stop him from doing it. Yeah, Ryan had a few problems, and yeah, Ray might need to vent a little more later, but it had taken him all of 40 minutes to accept that Ryan was the Vagabond and forgive him that. How long was he supposed to punish Ryan for losing control and “almost” hurting him?

 

"Yeah," Ray said. "I can handle myself I think. You seem more mellow than you were."

 

"Sure do," Ryan agreed.

 

Ryan drove them out the freeway up toward Sandy Shores, but instead of going towards AH Labs (or the bunker, as Ray called it), he kept driving north towards Blaine County and beyond.  When Ryan finally pulled off the road and parked the car, Ray barely noticed they'd stopped driving, head leaned against the window and zoned out. Only Charlie scrabbling off his lap to jump out the other side of the car brought him back.

 

"Beach?" Ryan offered. Ray smiled and got out as well. It was well into night time, and not particularly warm, probably 55° again, and with the ocean breeze, it certainly wasn't warm enough to swim. Ray shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and followed Ryan onto the beach. Charlie raced ahead of them and Ray remembered the last time he (and Charlie, at least as far as he knew) had been to the beach, which was Geoff's birthday party, all those months ago, while Ryan was still out cold. It had only gotten up to 70° that day, but that was still a far cry from what it was now.

 

Ray took his time crossing the beach, and Ryan had nearly gotten a fire started by the time Ray reached him.

 

"Cold?" Ryan asked.

 

"It's November," Ray replied. "It was warmer in Austin. I think it was in the 80s today." Ryan shrugged off his jacket and put it around Ray's shoulders. Ryan's dumb biceps were not helping anything as he returned to lighting the fire. He was actually making a fire with matches as opposed to the Gavin way of shooting a gas trail. Ray supposed that if he was unable to carry guns anymore, he would have to become more creative too. Or he just wouldn't leave the house. Probably that.

 

Ray put his arms through the sleeves of Ryan's jacket and stuck his hands in the pockets. The pockets were empty, probably because Ryan didn't use that jacket anymore. It seemed cleaner than it had when Ryan was wearing it every day, and Ray imagined that even Ryan's new jacket would have less wear and tear on it, since Ryan was so removed from action now.

 

"Rye?" Ray asked.

 

Ryan didn't pause from trying to get the fire to spread, but replied, "yes?"

 

"Do you miss the action?" Ray asked. The fire in front of them finally caught and Ryan stood up. For a moment, they were both entranced with the small flames.

 

"Every day," Ryan replied.

 

"Have you considered retirement?" Ray asked. "You used to say you would retire."

 

"Geoff says it's good that I miss it. That I can go back someday," Ryan said. "I disagree."

 

"You do?"

 

"As long as I still have these thoughts, these desires, I shouldn't be back out there," Ryan said. "Geoff should have put me out to pasture four months ago, cut his losses and be done with me."

 

"But he didn't," Ray pointed out.

 

"Maybe a recovering alcoholic isn't where we should put our trust for leadership," Ryan said.

 

"You're a recovering murder-holic, what's the difference?" Ray said.

 

"The difference is I got passed over for leadership because of it," Ryan said, more calm than Ray would have been in the same situation. "Has Geoff approached you about a promotion?"

 

"Why would he?" Ray asked.

 

"Just asking," Ryan shrugged. He turned away from the fire to look out over the ocean, to the dark horizon in the distance. Charlie had found a stick that wasn't on fire and was adamant that Ryan play fetch with her. Ryan obliged this request while Ray slowly warmed up next to the fire. Once a few minutes had passed, and Ray could take his hands out of his pockets, he joined in the fun.

 

"Wanna go swimming?" Ryan asked, a grin on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

 

"No, it's cold!" Ray exclaimed.

 

"Wuss," Ryan said, stripping off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. He'd kicked off his sneakers and socks long before, and now he sprinted towards the waves in just his boxer briefs.

 

Ray had never really spent a lot of time thinking about what Ryan did to stay in shape, and he certainly didn't now, but whatever it was, he'd definitely been doing more of it recently.

 

"Don't be a baby!" Ryan yelled over the roar of the waves crashing. "The water's warm!"

 

Ray highly doubted that, but started shucking his clothes off slowly. His checkerboard vans, his lame socks, the same pair of shorts he'd been wearing for the last year and a half, Ryan's jacket, his purple hoodie, and a tshirt with a dumb meme on it, all thrown haphazardly into a pile he'd regret later with his pistol and phone on top, before he ran across the sand to join Ryan in the water.

 

**First things first, Ryan was a fucking liar, the water was freezing.**

 

"It's cold!!" Ray whined. Charlie splashed around him, unfazed by the cold water. Ryan, already completely wet from diving into a few waves, waded over to Ray.

 

"I'll warm you up. Come here," Ryan said, opening his arms to give Ray a hug.

 

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, no, you're wet!! Oh my god!" Ray screamed, trying to get away from Ryan before Ryan trapped him in a bear hug and kissed his forehead. Ray tried to be as not pleased about this as humanly possible. Ryan picked Ray up clean off his feet and for a terrified moment Ray was afraid Ryan was going to throw him into the oncoming surf, but Ryan set him back down on his feet, still giggling.

 

"Still cold?" Ryan asked.

 

"How are you 30 years old, childless, and still do the fuckin cheesiest dad shit ever, of all time?" Ray asked.

 

"You have to eat a lot of cheese to become as cheesy as me, it's a hard won right. Nay, a privilege!" Ryan exclaimed.

 

"You're the worst," Ray said, leaning into Ryan to protect himself from the wind.

"You can swim, can't you?" Ryan asked.

 

"Why? Oh my god, don't throw me!!" Ray yelled as Ryan tightened his grip on him. "Ryan, my glasses cost three million dollars!!!!"

 

"They're waterproof," Ryan teased, launching Ray a few feet into an oncoming wave. Ray clutched his glasses to his face and struggled to his feet, but another wave took his legs out again. Ryan giggled and pulled Ray back to a standing position.

 

"You're the worst," Ray laughed.

 

"When we get back to the city, let's order pizza, and watch bad TV, and catch up," Ryan said in Ray's ear. Ray agreed.

 

**

 

"You're a certified millionaire and you ordered two medium two topping pizzas with a coupon?" Ray asked, bringing the pizzas inside. Ryan took plates out of the cupboard.

 

"I had the coupon, why would I not use it?" Ryan asked.

 

"What did you get?" Ray asked, setting down the boxes on the table.

 

"One Hawaiian, one bacon and mushroom," Ryan said. Ray stopped short and stared at Ryan. "What?"

 

"I'm going to have to publicly shame you for this at a later date. Keep your abomination away from me," Ray said, taking a piece of bacon and mushroom and shoving half of it in his mouth.  Ray’s phone started ringing.  Michael.  Ray answered it with his mouth full.  “Wo?”

 

“Ray?  Where the hell are you?” Michael’s frantic voice asked.  Ray swallowed half of the pizza in his mouth, freeing up some room for talking.

 

“I’m at Ryan’s, where are you?” Ray replied.  Michael sighed deeply.  “Were we supposed to do something tonight?  I thought that was tomorrow.”

 

“He’s at Ryan’s, Geoff,” Ray heard Michael say away from the phone.  Ray could hear Geoff screaming and shot a look at Ryan.  Ryan guiltily pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his notifications.  He grimaced.  “Hey, uh, Ray?”

 

“Yeah?” Ray replied to Michael.

 

“You okay?” Michael asked.  “You need anything?”

 

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Ray said.

 

“You sure?” Michael pressed.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Ray laughed.  “I’ll see you tomorrow for the thing.”

 

“Okay… if you’re sure,” Michael trailed off. 

 

“Bye, Michael,” Ray said, hanging up his phone and attacking his piece of pizza again.

 

“Like I said,” Ryan said, trying to keep the tone of the conversation light while reminding Ray that no one trusted Ryan alone with him.

 

“It’s my life, I’m 22 years old, I think I’m allowed to take it in my own hands,” Ray said before taking a huge bite of crust.  "Especially considering I'm fucking immortal."

 

“My parents were still worrying about me when I was 22,” Ryan said, putting two pieces of pizza on each plate and taking them into the living room.  Ray followed him with a diet coke and a dr pepper under his arm.

 

“You weren’t heir apparent to a multi-billion dollar crime syndicate at 22, though,” Ray pointed out.  "Or immortal."

 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ryan frowned at him, “and no, I wasn’t.  I wasn’t a lot of things at 22 that I am now.  A lot changes in your 20s, and I get that’s why Geoff and Jack think I’m too old for you.”

 

“First of all, I’m so much older than Caiti, so Jack has no room to talk, and also fuck them,” Ray said, finally swallowing his crust and sitting down on the couch.  “What are we watching?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan said.  “They’ll probably say a few things about us on the 11 o’clock news, we can watch that if you want.”

 

“Literally anything but the news,” Ray said.  Ryan settled for some law & order rerun on cable.  “Crime shows?”

 

“It was this or the 700 club,” Ryan said.  “We’re not supposed to be paying attention to it.”

 

“Okay, fine,” Ray agreed.  “What have you been up to while I was gone?  Stabbed any other crew members?  Gotten married?  Had any kids?  Made any new sweet inventions?”

 

“Stabbed anybody? No.  Married, no, but I got my divorce settled.  Still no kids and no sweater vests,” Ryan listed off.  “Nothing really new, just the rocket bikes and the new comms.”

 

“Rocket bikes?” Ray asked.  “What’s a rocket bike?”

 

“What does it sound like?” Ryan asked.  “A motorcycle with a rocket on it.  It’s fun, unless you boost into a brick wall.”

 

“Then what happens?” Ray asked.

 

“You die, probably,” Ryan said.  “Jeremy won’t touch them.”

 

“You got divorced?  You and Meg?” Ray asked.

 

“Bout time,” Ryan shrugged.

 

“And you seem pretty casual about not having stabbed anybody,” Ray concluded.

 

“Well, look, I didn’t stab anybody, but there may have been an incident of consensual… shooting directly in the heart,” Ryan said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

 

“…Consensual…shooting…directly in the heart?” Ray asked, involuntarily shooting a look around to make sure there were no guns within arm’s reach.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed after a moment or two’s hesitation.

 

“Do you want to elaborate on that?” Ray asked.  “Maybe explain how a shooting is consensual?”

 

“When someone asks you to shoot them, and then you do,” Ryan said.  “It was Michael, he was back up in 15 minutes.  You can ask him about it.  It was totally consensual!”

 

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” Ray finally said, still puzzling over the bizarre wording.

 

“In my defense, he asked me to do it a second time, and I didn’t,” Ryan said, clearly proud of himself.

 

“Congrats?”

 

“Well, what have you been up to?” Ryan accused.  “Jetting around Austin without a gang on your back?”

 

“I went to the most important gang I could find, said hey I’m Brownman from Los Santos, do you have a job for me or what?” Ray said.  “It’s all underground there, it’s awful, really.  Kingpins do not have million dollar penthouses in downtown, that’s for sure.”

 

“Every time Geoff goes to another seedy deal in a rundown shack, I can tell he’s seeing his own net worth flashing before his eyes,” Ryan said.  “It’s pretty sad the state some other crews are living in.”

 

“Exactly why I never joined a crew in Austin, besides you can make so much more as a freelancer, bouncing between the gangs.  Puts a bigger target on your back, but not like I care.  Did I mention immortals are rare as fuck there, too?” Ray said.

 

“You did,” Ryan nodded.  “I wonder why that is.”

 

"Ryan, let’s cut to the chase.  We can sit here all night and pretend we care what the other did the last few months, or we can finish what we started in the elevator, it's your call," Ray finally said what they were both thinking.

 

"Just one more question - did you... did you see anyone else while you were in Austin?" Ryan asked. Ray was shocked. He hadn't really even thought of it. Apparently, he was shocked into silence for too long because Ryan tacked on, "you don't have to tell me. Never mind. Forget I asked."

 

"Of course I didn't!" Ray finally said. "Why would - did you??"

 

"No," Ryan shook his head.

 

"Okay," Ray said, calming down a little. "Jesus Christ, Ryan."

 

"I had to know," Ryan half whispered, leaning in to kiss Ray.

 

"You're a fucking moron," Ray muttered before kissing him.

 

*

 

The next morning, Ryan woke up to something soft but compact hitting him in the face. Ryan's immediate fight or flight instinct kicked in and he attempted to bat the object away from his head. It made a soft whack noise as it fell to the bed. Ryan heard Ray laugh and felt the bed bounce from Ray jumping onto it.

 

"You're a nerd," Ray laughed, picking up the paper bag from where it had fallen and opening it.

 

"What is this?" Ryan asked, sitting up.

 

"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed like you used to make me but I can't fucking cook," Ray said, tossing a McGriddle to Ryan.

 

"I appreciate you not burning the house down," Ryan said, unwrapping the sandwich.

 

"You're welcome," Ray agreed, chowing into an Egg McMuffin. "What's on the agenda for today?"

 

"Probably facing the music for everything we did last night," Ryan said. Ray sighed.

 

"Why can't they just be happy for us?" Ray complained.

 

"Because everybody knows this is the bad ending," Ryan replied.

 

"I don't think so," Ray argued. "Why would I fight so hard for the bad ending?"

 

"Until yesterday, you didn't want anything to do with me," Ryan reminded him.

 

"I'm a millennial," Ray said by way of an explanation.

 

"Millennials take fatalistic humor to the extreme to cope with crippling student debt, which you don't have," Ryan replied. "You have the opposite of student debt. You're probably a millionaire."

 

"Don't exaggerate," Ray frowned.

 

"High six figures at a minimum," Ryan said. "I served my time in the Ramsey Enterprises, Ltd. bookkeeping department."

 

"Why."

 

"It's a long story," Ryan waved it off. "The point is-"

 

"Wait a minute," Ray interrupted, setting down his breakfast and holding his other hand out to stop Ryan from talking. "You asked me yesterday if I was approached about a promotion."

 

"So?"

 

"Meanwhile you said you were passed over for a promotion," Ray continued.

 

"I was."

 

"The only way I would get a promotion would be if..." Ray trailed off, putting it together. "No. No way. I don't want that kind of responsibility."

 

"Ray, come on," Ryan said.

 

"No, no, no, I'm a kid. I'm 22. I play call of duty until I fall asleep. I've seen the Bee Movie 128 times. I'm not a leader!" Ray protested.

 

"It was just a suggestion," Ryan tried to interject.

 

"I'm not allowed on street level! I can't talk to strangers! I started smoking just so I can sleep at night!" Ray continued to protest. "Gavin was supposed to inherit the crew, not me."

 

"He was groomed for royalty, not leadership," Ryan said.

 

"Jeremy, then! Anyone but me," Ray shook his head. "I need some fresh air." He was gone from Ryan's bedroom before Ryan could stop him.

 

Ray sat on the steps to Ryan's apartment, considering lighting the bowl he had with him, but he was running low and wasn't sure who wasn't an enemy of the crew that he could buy from in Los Santos. He wrote and rewrote a text to Michael four times before deciding.

 

_Hey, who do you buy weed from?_

 

Michael's response came less than a minute later.

 

_Why, do you need some? I can spot you, dude._

_Yeah, but who's your dealer?_

 

_Why?_ More like why was Michael so frustrating.

 

_Because I'm not driving back to Austin just to buy weed! Who do you buy from??_

 

_The dispensary in Vespucci_ , Michael replied after way too long.

 

_What_ , Ray typed back.

 

_It's medical, okay? I have a prescription. Are you going to make fun of me now?_

_Why would I make fun of you_

_Cuz I'm a loser_ , was Michael’s immediate response.

 

_You're not but okay_ , Ray responded. Michael didn't reply to that right away so Ray sent another text. _Why would Geoff even consider handing the crew to me?_

 

_I literally have no idea_ , Michael finally replied.

 

_So you heard that too._

_I walked into the end of the discussion about it when I went to speak for Lindsay's promotion. I don't know anything about it, just that Ryan was pushing for it._

 

"Son of a bitch," Ray said out loud, reading this.  It wasn't that Ray didn't want the job, he'd probably enjoy being a kingpin, but he wasn't anywhere near ready to take on the responsibility of running a crew, even with Lindsay or Trevor's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is brought to you by Elton John astral projecting into an elevator to sing the entirety of his hit song Can You Feel The Love Tonight? to Ray and Ryan (the real version, with the whole kings and vagabonds shebang, all 4 minutes and 3 seconds of it) in a single instant.
> 
> to clarify the last line: ray's not mad at ryan or anything, he's just ... you know *grif voice* son of a BITCH
> 
> next time: ray tries to be an adult, we have a heist maybe? something happens? im really jumping the gun posting this so soon. i had an idea for the christmas chapter that made me giggle for way too long to not use it, so we're right on schedule for that lmao


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insert typical dumb excuse here
> 
> hi im still alive   
> here's my garbo  
> no warnings this time, fuckin incredible  
> actually towards the end pretty much everyone gets drunk and it ~looks~ like they drink and drive but i just want to say that they DONT  
> also we see larry and steffie for a grand total of 20 seconds in this chapter and they dont even speak but they're here
> 
> remember to stay hydrated, this fucker is over 150k now? whaatt????

_It wasn't that Ray didn't want the job, he'd probably enjoy being a kingpin, but he wasn't anywhere near ready to take on the responsibility of running a crew, even with Lindsay or Trevor's help._

 

*

 

"Trevor's here for two more years," Geoff said. "Your name was mentioned in a long list of possible candidates to replace me. Don't get me wrong, kid, I love this job, and I don't want to quit the business, but it would be nice to be able to plan heists and do more of the things I like to do without herding a bunch of toddlers around all the time. That's where Trevor comes in."

 

"Then where do I come in? I'm one of the toddlers that needs herding," Ray said.

 

"You planned the best heist this crew has run in a long time. I think you could have wrinkled out the last heist we did into something better, no offense to Michael. If you'd be willing to consider a promotion in the future, I'd love to have your help planning heists, triaging which jobs are more important, who should do what. Let Trevor deal with the when, that scheduling crap is bullshit," Geoff said.

 

"Yeah, okay," Ray finally agreed. "I'll try it."

 

"You will?!" Geoff perked up. 

 

"I haven't run enough jobs with the new people to really tell what their specialties are, but I'll try," Ray said. Geoff couldn't stop beaming. Ray hadn't seen him this happy in years, maybe since Ray's high school graduation.  (Geoff had been the proudest dad ever that one of his kids was finally finishing high school, since neither he nor Jack had ever finished, turning to the crime life much earlier than Ray had. Griffon wasn't sure if she'd finished either, and it was common knowledge that Gavin hadn't even tried.)

 

*

 

"I heard you're the new boss," Michael said. Ray scowled. He was trying his best to not look like he was drowning in paperwork. He'd asked Geoff if he could take an assistant, and Geoff had replied with "I don't give a shit", so Ray had hired Jeremy to help him.

 

"I heard you can suck a cock," Ray replied.

 

"I can," Michael confirmed. "Good at it, too."

 

"That's to be determined," Ray scoffed. "When is Caiti back?"

 

"Wednesday the 23rd," Jeremy replied, shuffling papers to find her itinerary.

 

"Which means she won't be available for jobs until the following Monday, because she'll spend a lot of time with Jack. Which means she'll be out too," Michael spoke up helpfully. Ray groaned.

 

"How's Gavin with a rifle these days?" Ray asked Jeremy.

 

"Hit or miss," Jeremy replied.

 

"Literally everyone is hit or miss with a sniper rifle. That's the whole point. Either you hit or you miss!" Ray shot back. Jeremy shrugged.

 

"Why can't you do it?" Michael asked.

 

"I need a second sniper," Ray said. "And _Dad_ says I have to share the work, because if I try to do everything I'll burn out."

 

"He's right," Michael agreed.

 

"J, I have to move you to team 1," Ray sighed.

 

"What about Alfredo?" Michael asked.

 

"If you're not going to be helpful, you can leave," Ray told him.

 

"He's going out of town," Jeremy said to Michael.

 

"Can you make this shot, J?" Ray asked, shoving a paper at Jeremy.

 

"Uh..." Jeremy hesitated, eyes glazing over at the physics scribbled over it.

 

"What the fuck am I doing? Ryan's a great shot," Ray said, furiously erasing Jeremy's name and scribbling Ryan's instead.

 

"He hasn't shot a gun in almost three months," Jeremy said.

 

"Good point, he should probably take the skills assessment," Ray said, whipping out his phone. He mashed Ryan's name in his favorites. Michael walked out of the room with a quiet, "this is clearly beyond my pay grade."

 

"Hello?" Ryan finally answered.

 

"That shot into the maze bank. Can you make it?" Ray asked.

 

"Probably. Why, can't you?" Ryan asked. "The math is all there."

 

"I need your shooting skills assessments, pistol, smg, and sniper on my desk by 4pm," Ray said.

 

"Yes sir," Ryan replied.

 

"Thanks dear," Ray said before hanging up.

 

"You don't have the authority to bring him back into action," Jeremy said.

 

"You'll find that I do, but I'm not," Ray said. "You'll have to be muscle, can you handle that?"

 

"That is my classification," Jeremy said.

 

"Well I've never seen you in action," Ray replied. "I assume they ended up training you to replace Ryan."

 

"They did," Jeremy confirmed. Ray scribbled Jeremy's name in the second column across from Michael's in the first. If Jack truly wasn't going to be available, he was going to have to redo the entire getaway as well.  What Ray wanted to do was shove all the papers off the table and go play literally any video game for the next ten hours, but the window for this heist was slowly closing.

 

_Geoff Griff Jack Caiti Ryan Ray Michael Lindsay Gavin Meg Jeremy Matt Trevor Alfredo_

 

Ray quickly scribbled everyone's names down to make sure he wasn't forgetting anyone, not realizing he'd organized them by pairs of partners.

 

"Is that really the main crew?" Jeremy asked, peeking at Ray's paper. Ray grunted. "Seven pairs of dating individuals?"

 

"Five. Geoff and Griffon are married. So are Michael and Lindsay," Ray said, looking down.

 

"D'you think you and Ryan will get married?" Jeremy asked.

 

"We could," Ray said. "Haven't thought about it that much."

 

"Apparently in Vegas, you can get married at Taco Bell," Jeremy said. "I saw it on Reddit."

 

"A man after my own heart," Ray rolled his eyes. "What about Matt?"

 

"What about him? I don't think we're really serious enough to get married yet," Jeremy said.  “Plus the whole thing with Trevor, I mean, it’s really still in the air–”

 

"No, I mean, what are his street credentials? Can he help with this in any way?" Ray asked.

 

"Matt Bragg?" Jeremy asked. Ray nodded. "The guy who once got so mad at a Burger King that they wouldn't make his burger right, that he drove around the building, hopped the counter, made himself a burger, and left without hurting anyone?"

 

"So I shouldn't be expecting a weapons skills assessment from him on my desk by 4pm?" Ray concluded.

 

"I would go with no," Jeremy shook his head. Ray sighed.

 

"I need a break," Ray said, standing up and heading for the roof. Ray smoked for a few minutes, realizing very quickly that he wasn't calming down, but very much wanting instant gratification. Perhaps some CoD?

 

Ray returned to the living room and booted up the Xbox, so he could play a few rounds of CoD, get some kills, and get reenergized to continue heist planning.

 

Ray's phone dinged with a text after a few rounds, and Ray glanced at it to see who it was. Ryan. He could wait. Ray continued the round he was in, and his phone dinged again. He glanced at it again, still Ryan. He reached for it, trying to maintain focus, and read the texts off the lock screen.

_Are you busy?  
Can you come out to the bunker? I need help._

 

Ray took a moment to decide what was more important - his k/d or his boyfriend. Ray chose boyfriend and was in his Adder headed for the bunker within minutes.

 

When Ray walked into the bunker, he started shouting for Ryan – it was a big place, and Ray didn’t know his way around that well.  No reply, but Ray followed the string of lights that were on until he found the weapons testing arena which doubled with the weapons skills assessment area.  Of course, where Ryan would be.  What on earth could he need Ray’s help with?  Ray buzzed himself into the secure area and looked around. 

 

“Ray,” Ryan said.  Ray spun around.  Ryan was sitting on the concrete floor with his back to the wall, knees pulled up to his chest.

 

“Are you… okay?” Ray asked, concerned, rushing to his side.

 

“I’m not armed,” Ryan said.  Ray hadn’t even considered it, and shook his head. 

 

“What happened?  Are you okay?  What happened??” Ray asked, hugging him. 

 

“I can’t do it,” Ryan said.

 

“You can’t make the shot?” Ray asked.

 

“I can’t go back into action,” Ryan said.  “Of course I can make the shot.”

 

“Do you want the next heist off?” Ray asked.  “Say the word, Rye, I can make it happen.  I can put you on sabbatical so discreetly, not even Jack notices.”

 

“Jack will notice,” Ryan frowned.

 

“Okay, but she won’t tell anyone,” Ray said.  “Are you going to tell me what happened?  Why you need help?”

 

“Check my readouts,” Ryan said.  Ray stood and walked to the computer in the center of the back wall, nearly tripping over a pistol that was on the floor.  After printing the readouts, Ray stared at them.  Perfect.  Perfect marks on all three assessments Ray had ordered.

 

“Ryan, you scored higher than half the crew and you haven’t shot a gun in almost three months,” Ray said, looking from the reports to Ryan in awe.

 

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” Ryan said.

 

“Not for most people it isn’t,” Ray said.  “Most people can’t make shots this accurate under normal circumstances.”

 

“Please don’t reinstate me,” Ryan almost begged.

 

“I won’t!  Just tell me what’s going on,” Ray said, discarding the reports and sitting next to Ryan.

 

“My vision goes red.  It’s like blacking out only worse.  I’m not in control of my body but I have to watch it happening,” Ryan told him.  “Part of me likes it too much.  The other part of me is terrified by the amount of power I have.”

 

“Alright.  We’ll work on this, but the only way I can help you is if you let me tell a few more people what’s going on,” Ray said.

 

“Like who?” Ryan asked.

 

“Jack, for one, and at least one of Gavin, Trevor, or Matt,” Ray said.  “You can’t be the only person who’s ever been like this.  There has to be some kind of documented case of this happening before, even if it’s in Ancient Greece.  And that immortal would still be alive to tell us about it.”

 

“A team of data miners is better than one,” Ryan agreed.

 

“That’s assuming you want our help,” Ray said.  “I’m not going to force help on you.”

 

“No, no, I want help, please,” Ryan assured him.  “God, even to go back to not caring and wiping out everyone would be better than this.”

 

“Well, let’s call that plan B,” Ray said.  “Let’s go back to your place and hash out a plan.”  Ryan nodded, moving to get up.  Ray got up as well and started cleaning up where Ryan had evidently flung the guns and ammo he’d been working with.

 

“How’s your weapon accuracy?” Ryan asked, trying to pretend he was doing anything other than loitering by the door.

 

“Decent,” Ray said.  “You’ve seen me in action.”

 

“Yeah, and you’ve missed and shot me before,” Ryan pointed out.  The shot in question had most likely deflected off something else and hit Ryan, but the fact remained.

 

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Ray said, loading a pistol.  He keyed in his credentials and the targets started appearing in front of him.  He sank two clips into the targets, which moved around a lot more than he remembered, then the assessment turned off.  Ray turned around to see Ryan already printing Ray’s reports and reading them.

 

“I’d be impressed, but it really just confirms what we already knew,” Ryan said, handing the report to Ray.

 

“What’s that?” Ray said, looking down the near perfect marks.

 

“You are wasted on the roof,” Ryan replied.

 

**

 

“Alright, I was gone for one day and you’re trying to tell me that Geoff broke his ass?” Ray asked.  “And I missed it??”

 

“Technically his _coccyx_ ,” Michael said helpfully.

 

“So, we had like 2,000 bouncy balls in a 5 gallon bucket," Jeremy said.

 

"Buck-et," Gavin said quietly.

 

"They were Geoff’s, I swear,” Jeremy continued.

 

“What… did you do with the bouncy balls?” Ray asked, looking around.  Now that they mentioned it, he could see the remnants of the 2000 bouncy balls still around the living room, under the couch, by the window, stuck in the baseboard.

 

“We made it rain,” Gavin said.  "Almost killed Alfredo."

 

“Of fucking course you did,” Ray sighed. 

 

“C’mon, X-Ray, when did you become such a gent?  Live a little,” Gavin poked him in the shoulder.  Ray didn’t react to this dig, besides to put one hand over Gavin’s mouth to prevent him from speaking.

 

“And Geoff slipped and broke his ass?” Ray asked. “That’s not funny, that’s mean.  He’s an old man, of course he was gonna fall.”

 

“No, no, no, see: he tried to surf across them on like a plastic lid and he fell down and broke his ass.  Gavin has a video,” Michael said.

 

“So it was all his fault?” Ray asked.

 

“Oh completely,” Jeremy nodded.

 

“That’s why it’s funny,” Michael added.  Gavin stuck his tongue out to lick Ray’s hand, and Ray calmly rubbed it on Gavin’s shirt.  Gavin screamed.

 

“It’s your own spit, dickhead,” Ray told him.  Gavin ran away from the other three and hid on the other side of the couch.  “I can’t believe I missed it.”

 

“We’ve got the video,” Jeremy said.  “We have a ton of videos of stupid shit.  Did they tell you about the time I let them tape me to the wall?”

 

Ray liked hanging out with the lads.  He’d really missed the lads while he was in Austin, and Gavin was right: he was acting too much like a gent lately, especially since his promotion.

 

“Do you want to shoot shit with us today?” Michael asked.

 

“I have to work,” Ray sighed.

 

“You’re dying!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“I’m not dying, I just have work to do,” Ray said.  “There’s a time crunch on the next heist.”

 

“How did _you_ get to be in charge of heists?” Gavin asked.

 

“I’m good at my job?” Ray guessed.

 

“As long as it’s not me,” Michael rolled his eyes.  “Heist planning is fucking hell, dude, you got fucked.”

 

“I bet if we all pitched in, you’d finish faster, and we can all go out!” Gavin exclaimed.

 

“Obviously, yeah, but we’re not 4 years old,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “Just go without me.  I can probably finish tonight if I’m lucky, and then I’ll hang out tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow night we’re going to break into the mall for Christmas presents,” Gavin announced.  Ray didn’t even bother asking why.  “You in?”

 

“Yeah, count me in,” Ray agreed.  Gavin beamed.

 

“Need my help, boss?” Jeremy asked as Gavin and Michael headed to the armory.

 

“Nah, have fun or whatever,” Ray shook his head.

 

“Do you not want to come with us?  Because if you don’t, I can make them stop asking,” Jeremy said quietly.

 

“No, I really do want to, but I have to finish this heist.  Time crunch bullshit,” Ray replied.  “Geoff wanted it done before now, I can tell.”

 

“Okay,” Jeremy nodded.  “See you later.”  Ray nodded and Jeremy left to raid the armory with the other lads.

 

Ray was alone for maybe 15 minutes (and not getting anything productive done) when Ryan showed up Jack.  Ray barely spared them a glance.  He’d been holed up in the conference room for five days with this fucking heist paperwork, trying to devise the best way to get done what Geoff wanted done.  There were empty cans of red bull littered all over the table (but some of them had been Jeremy’s) and scrumpled up paper spilling out of the trash can.  Ray hated the mess, but he needed to keep working more than he needed to clean it up.

 

“Don’t kill yourself for one job,” Jack advised, crossing behind his chair and looking at Ray’s current chicken scratch.

 

“I hate this,” Ray finally admitted, pushing the papers away from him and sitting back in his chair.  “It’s awful.  The whole idea is stupid and the timing is even worse.”

 

“So change it,” Jack suggested. 

 

“This is the job Geoff wants done,” Ray said, slamming his elbows onto the table and putting his head in his hands heavily.

 

“Geoff wants to see if you can handle this job,” Ryan corrected.

 

“I can’t!  It’s impossible!” Ray looked up again, grabbing at his papers to explain.  “Alfredo’s out of town, Jack and Caiti are unavailable, these blueprints aren’t even right, and don’t get me started on the fucking math!”  He threw the two papers he was holding in the air in frustration.

 

“God, you’re right, he does need our help,” Jack sighed, sitting down beside Ray.  “Ray.  Geoff gave you this for two reasons.  One, to see how you manage stress.”

 

“Not fuckin well,” Ray interjected.

 

“And two, to see you take an impossible job and make it something possible.  Keep the end goal the same, change everything else.  Change the when, the who, the why, and the how.  Make it yours.  Put the swag and the yolo in it,” Jack said.

 

“How fuckin old are you?” Ray asked, appalled at Jack’s misuse of slang.  “Please leave the blatant misuse of slang to Ryan.”

 

“The _point_ is that I came in here to give you a kick in the right direction,” Jack rolled her eyes.  “Reschedule. Reinvent.”

 

“This is so much work,” Ray lamented.

 

“I know you can finish it tonight,” Jack said.  “I’m even leaving you with Ryan as inspiration, and he promises not to be distracting.”

 

“I can try,” Ray sighed, hanging his head again.  Jack patted his shoulder.

 

“I expect the finished plans on my desk before midnight,” she said before leaving the conference room.  Ray nearly screamed in frustration.

 

“What are your hang ups?” Ryan asked, shuffling Ray’s papers around, looking to see what he had so far.

 

“Well, _now_ the biggest hang up is I have to start from scratch and I have less than seven hours to get this bullshit into something presentable," Ray groaned.

 

“It’s fine, we’ll montage it down into a 20-second hypercut with sexy music over it,” Ryan joked.

 

~royalty-free montage music~

~montage of ray creating the Perfect Heist, including him and Ryan in various positions around the room in varying degrees of happiness and frustration, and at least one shot of Ray saying he was going to steal the Declaration of Independence~

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ryan asked as Ray finally compiled all the complete paperwork into one definitive pile for Jack.

 

“Speak for yourself,” Ray replied.  “I’m going to bed and I’m not coming back for three days.”  He stood up, cracking half his joints as he did so, and picked up his papers, headed for Jack’s office.

 

Jack was awake and sitting at her desk when Ray knocked.

 

“You did it?” she asked when he wordlessly handed her the plans.  Ray grunted affirmatively.  She flicked through the plans, nodding to herself.  “And you’ll be submitting this at the staff meeting?”

 

“If I have to,” Ray replied.  Jack nodded again.

 

“Good work,” she told him.

 

“I shouldn’t have done so well the first time,” Ray half-muttered with a glare between her and Ryan.  “Fuck something up once, you never get asked to do it again.”

 

“You didn’t have to say yes when Geoff asked you,” Jack reminded him.

 

“And I won’t next time,” Ray shot back.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Ray dragged himself to his own bedroom and flung himself down on the mattress without even taking off his shoes.  He heard Ryan come in after him and shut the door with a click.  The bed dipped next to him and he felt Ryan’s hands on his back, giving him a much-needed massage.

 

“I swear, I’m retiring to play video games full time.  You’re probably right, I probably have more than enough money to last me the rest of my life,” Ray said, slightly muffled by the way he was speaking directly into his duvet.  “If I’m lucky, that won’t be long.”

 

“You’re immortal,” Ryan reminded him.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Did you seriously forget?” Ryan laughed.

 

“No, I was hoping I’d fallen into the parallel universe,” Ray sighed, turning his head to the side.  “We don’t take advantage of being literal actual immortals anywhere near as much as you’d expect.”

 

“Getting hurt still hurts,” Ryan said in fairness.

 

“I’m not saying Russian roulette,” Ray rolled his eyes.  “I’m not ruling it out either.”

 

“Hmm, how can we make Russian roulette more interesting?” Ryan asked.

 

“We are not having this conversation,” Ray replied.

 

“I’m just saying, guns don’t have the _nuance_ knives have,” Ryan said.

 

“Please don’t _just say_ ,” Ray told him, waving Ryan’s hands away from his back so he could sit up.  “It makes me want to kiss you a lot less.”

 

“Whatever you say, homeskillet,” Ryan said, leaning in for a kiss.

 

“I hate you,” Ray mumbled against Ryan’s lips.  Ryan laughed, the vibrations against Ray’s face were infectious and he laughed too.

 

**

 

_Staff Meeting_

 

If Ray didn’t already regret taking his ‘promotion’, he certainly did now.  Staff meetings were awful, and, quite frankly, redundant.  He would have to give his presentation again at an all-crew heist meeting anyway, what was this new awful step?

 

The worst thing was that management had shifted so much since Ray had last been to a staff meeting, that he felt completely out of place.  Jack was the head of the table, Michael on her left, then Ray, with Lindsay next to him.  On Jack’s right, Trevor, then Shifty Larry Matovina, and then a girl who Ray definitely hadn’t met before but thought might have been named Steffie (or Stessie, or Jesse? Ray had literally no idea who she was).  Geoff was at the far end of the table, feet up on the table, on his phone, and pretending not to pay attention.  Jack had an agenda for the meeting written on the white board behind her.   Ray suspected Michael had had more to do with the pure organization of it all than Jack had. (He also thought it was probably Michael’s handwriting on the white board.)

 

“Well, this is the new management team for Fake AH,” Jack announced.  “If you’re sitting at the table, congratulations.  If you’re not here then… you didn’t make the cut.”  Ryan’s words about getting passed over for a promotion echoed through Ray’s brain.  Everyone else took half a second to look around the table.  “As I’m sure you’re aware, Geoff is on ‘sabbatical’, which means he’s going to come into work as often as he ‘feels like it’ and not be helpful in any way.”

 

“Hey, fuck you, I’m here,” Geoff interjected.  Jack ignored him.

 

“If you’re wondering, I’m the new Geoff, Michael is the new me, Lindsay is the new Michael, Trevor is the new Lindsay, and Shifty is the new Trevor,” Jack quickly explained.  “Steffie is training to be Trevor’s assistant so that Lindsay won’t lose her promotion when Trevor graduates, and Ray has a new position that didn’t exist before, which brings me to: Ray, would you like to give your presentation?”  The question was clearly rhetorical, so Ray drained the rest of his can of Dr. Pepper and stood up.

 

“I finished the plans for the next heist, which unless you live under a rock, you’d know I’ve been working on for the past week and a half,” Ray said.  “The original plan was basically to bust into the Maze Bank in two teams, crack the vault, and empty it, but that idea was basically just shit, so I present, Operation Waffle.”

 

“Waffle?” Trevor asked.

 

“We’re all friends, friends love each other,” Ray confirmed.  “Found out yesterday that each other is actually two words, very disappointed when I found out each other is two words.”  Michael started laughing, Lindsay followed, and everyone let out at least a chuckle.  Geoff sounded like he was dying.  “Alright, I get it, I’m an idiot.  Basic idea, same as always, get in, get out, get da money.  It’ll take everybody, but we shouldn’t hit too many snags.”

 

“Everybody?” Trevor asked.

 

“All fourteen of us,” Ray confirmed.  “Griffon, Caiti, and Meg too.  I’ve got prep sheets.”  He handed Trevor, Larry, and Michael each a sheet of preparation needed from their department.  “Trevor, you can coordinate with Ryan on your sheet, he started working this morning on the new tech we’ll need.  Shifty, if you can get with Kdin and see if she will help us with the big hack we need, that would be great.”

 

“And how many of us will die on this heist?” Michael asked, bitterly, thinking of their last completely failed heist.

 

“Hopefully none, but there’s always a possibility we’ll have a casualty or two.  You’ll see in the description, I tried to group our less stealthy associates into different roles,” Ray said.

 

“Me and Gavin are running distraction.  Love it already,” Lindsay nodded.

 

“Everyone will be doing what they do best – that’s the point,” Ray said.  “I’ll be sniping, Michael will be shooting and blowing stuff up.  Jack, you… actually don’t get a helicopter in this one, the getaway is kind of a work in progress, contingent on what tech they can come up with.”

 

“Do you want to give us a quick rundown?” Jack asked.

 

“Well, y’know, that’s pretty much it,” Ray shrugged.  “Unless you want me to get super specific, but I figure that can wait until the all hands heist meeting.”

 

“Okay, good work.  Any questions?” Jack asked.

 

**

 

“It was the worst fucking meeting I’ve ever been to in my life, I never want to do it again,” Ray deadpanned.  He was in the passenger seat of the Armored Tim.  Jeremy was driving, Michael and Gavin were in the back.

 

“I thought it went okay,” Michael said.  “Better than the ones Geoff used to host.  Christ.”

 

“I hope I never have to go to a management meeting,” Gavin piped up.

 

“And you never will have to go to a management meeting,” Michael threw back at him.  Gavin didn’t have the attention span for meetings of that caliber, and despite being really quite smart, he rarely had anything useful to say in context.  Hence the great ‘does rocks float on lava’ debacle and the infamous ‘cool vs call’ ongoing headache.

 

“What’s wrong with a management meeting?” Jeremy asked.  He’d clearly never sat in on one.

 

“Nothing, they’re fine,” Michael told him.  “Gavin’s a baby.  You want annoying, you should listen to Lindsay bitch about how Trevor gets an assistant to do the same job she’s been doing by herself for three years.”

 

“They know one man can’t do the same amount of work Lindsay does,” Ray said.

 

“What’s the plan for tonight, Micoo?” Gavin asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

 

“I don’t know, Lil J planned it,” Michael said.  “What are we doing tonight, Jeremy?”

 

“Breaking into the mall?” Jeremy said vaguely.  “You’ve never broken into the mall before?”

 

“Why would we?” Ray asked.

 

“Fun?” Jeremy guessed.  “We used to do it all the time back at the Roosters.”

 

“I keep forgetting you were with the Roosters,” Ray said.

 

“What is the point of having an alliance with people we’re not allowed to see or talk to?” Gavin asked.

 

“Yeah, I miss Kerry,” Ray agreed. 

 

“And Barbara,” Gavin added.

 

“You didn’t even know  we weren’t supposed to see the Roosters until I told you,” Jeremy said to Ray, pulling into the parking garage at the mall.

 

“Yeah, well, I know now,” Ray said.

 

“You guys are idiots,” Michael rolled his eyes.  “The Roosters suck.  You’ll see.”

 

“They’ve got some powerful players now,” Jeremy said, making eye contact with Michael in the rearview mirror.

 

“We are not getting into this right now,” Ray rolled his eyes.  Jeremy put the car in park and Ray was the first out.  He readjusted his pistol in his pants and his beanie on his head, and he was ready to go.  No real need for heavy artillery, it would just get in the way of the fun. Michael and Gavin followed slower, but Jeremy led the way up to the main entrance of the mall.

 

“Security cameras?” Gavin asked.

 

“Matt set them all to loop twenty minutes ago,” Jeremy said.  He pulled his lockpick set out of his pocket and frowned at the doors.  Jeremy reached to his earpiece to turn on his comm.  “Hey, Matt?”

 

“The second door on the right is open, just come in,” Matt responded.  Jeremy tested it, Matt was right. 

 

“We got company?” Gavin asked.  Jeremy shook his head.

 

“Not anyone hostile,” Jeremy said.  The mall wasn’t as brightly lit as it would have been during operational hours, but it wasn’t dim either.  The various shops all had their entrances barred off but that was just a challenge to the Lads.  Jeremy led them to the food court, where upon arrival, they were greeted by Trevor, Alfredo, and Matt Bragg in the flesh, a rare occurrence, even if he did live with them.

 

“You made it!” Trevor exclaimed, offering Jeremy a beer immediately.  Jeremy took it and downed half of it like a champ.  Michael and Gavin followed suit (though Gavin made no attempt to chug his).  Trevor offered one to Ray as well, who shook his head to decline.  Trevor shrugged as if to say ‘your loss’, and Ray snagged one of the cans of Diet Coke.  It never bothered Ray that he was the only sober one until the other Lads started getting really wasted, and if it got to that point, he was fully capable of just leaving.

 

“Who did you get for Secret Santa?” Alfredo asked Michael and Gavin.

 

“Jack,” Gavin said.  “I already got her present.  Need something for boi.”  He jerked his thumb to indicate Michael.

 

“Oh, romantic,” Michael rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer.  “Also, I distinctly remember Jack threatening us if we told each other who we got for Secret Santa.”

 

“Oh.  I got Lindsay,” Alfredo said.

 

“Easy, she loves cats,” Jeremy said.  “Next problem.”

 

“I got Andy,” Trevor said. 

 

“Star Wars.  Next,” Jeremy rattled off, pointing at Ray to spill his recipient.

 

“Oh, I got you,” Ray said, taken by surprise.  He hadn’t even begun to think of what to get Jeremy for Christmas, or who else he needed to buy for besides his required secret santa and Ryan, of course.  Maybe Michael and Gavin?  In years past, he’d never really gotten anything for anyone besides the required secret santa.  That was the whole point, that no one had to do excessive shopping.

 

“I like cars,” Jeremy said smoothly.

 

“I’m not buying you a car, nice try,” Ray laughed along with everyone else.

 

“I’m not sure what the limit is, but I think it excludes gifts in the hundreds of thousands,” Matt piped up.

 

“So the lucky recipient of your gift is going to get bubble gum?” Michael joked.

 

“Maybe.  I got Larry, so…” Matt shrugged.

 

“What’s the deal with Larry now?” Jeremy asked.

 

“He has my old job,” Trevor said.

 

“No talking about work,” Alfredo half-whined.  He seemed like he was more than a little drunk.

 

“My apologies, Mister Sauce,” Trevor said in a drunken Southern accent.

 

“Kind of weird in here after hours,” Ray said.

 

“It’s the utter silence,” Michael said.  Ray nodded in agreement.  The mall’s built-in radio system was turned off.

 

“I got this,” Gavin said, hopping up and hurrying to the nearest control panel.

 

“It’s a wonder someone as dumb as Gavin can hack as well as he can,” Trevor said.

 

“Gavin’s not dumb,” Michael and Ray said at the same time.

 

“Wot if – y’legs… didn’t know they were legs?” Jeremy did a decent impression of Gavin.

 

“You making fun of me, Lil J?” Gavin called back over to them.

 

“A little bit,” Jeremy admitted.  The sound system in the mall came back on, giving them some background music.

 

“I got my GED last month, I’ll have you know,” Gavin announced, rejoining the other Lads sitting on the tables in the food court.

 

“Why?” Ray asked.

 

“Well, Ryan started talking about how there’s no such thing as zero gravity and it sort of broke my brain, and I decided I had to be smarter than him,” Gavin said.

 

“He says getting Gavin to go back to school is his proudest achievement,” Michael said.

 

“There’s no such thing as zero gravity?  Is that true?” Jeremy asked, looking around at Trevor for confirmation.

 

“Well, technically…” Trevor began a much longer speech about the subject.  Ray tuned out, super not interested in the topic.  Now that Ryan had been brought up, it came to the forefront of Ray’s attention that he hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to help Ryan with his more severe problems, if it was even possible.  That’d be a ballin Christmas present for Ryan, if he figured it out.  Alas, Ray was not an expert.  In fact, he didn’t even know where to begin except maybe asking Dr. Burns if he’d ever heard of it.

 

The after-hours mall bevs turned into running around the mall trying to decide which shops to break into, which evolved into a dance party, and then back into stealing things.  Ray didn’t end up with anything besides the idea of what he was going to get Jeremy for Christmas – a few movies.  It was like the Hullums had never let him near a VCR in his childhood.

 

Somehow they all ended up back at the penthouse with the Gents, Griffon, and Lindsay, and involved in a very high stakes game of ‘never have I ever’.  Most of the crew had bottled beer, but Ray, Ryan, and Geoff were sucking down Diet Coke.  The game had been getting more and more dirty (actually it had taken a hard right turn at Geoff’s ‘never have I ever done butt stuff’ and most of the room had erupted into annoyed shouts).

 

“Never have I ever fucked anyone in the Roosters,” Michael claimed.  Ray sighed as he took a drink, noting Gavin drinking as well.

 

“Question, if I fucked someone and they were in the Roosters when I fucked them but they aren’t anymore, does it still count?” Geoff asked.

 

“Who were you fucking in the Roosters?” Griffon asked, interested.

 

“You,” Geoff replied.

 

“Oh,” Griffon replied, taking a drink.

 

“Yes, it still counts,” Jack said.  Geoff took a drink too. 

 

“Does myself count?” Matt asked.

 

“No,” Michael said immediately.  Jeremy looked like he was trying to remember.

 

“I don’t… think so?” Jeremy said, looking at Matt.  Matt shrugged.  “I’m gonna go with no.  I’m good.”

 

“There’s a lot of people in the Roosters,” Alfredo said, still thinking.  “I’ve done a lot of things in my life.”

 

“Everyone in this crew is a slut,” Gavin observed.

 

“You drank!” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Never have I ever been married,” Gavin said quickly, trying to change the subject from who in the Roosters he’d fucked.  Geoff, Griffon, Michael, and Lindsay all drank.  Ryan maintained harsh eye contact with Gavin as he took a sip of his Diet Coke as well.

 

“I know we’re all focused on Gavin right now,” Trevor said, very, _very_ drunk, “but I just want to point out that I can’t believe Jeremy has never fucked Jon Risinger.”

 

“There’s a lot of people I’ve never fucked,” Jeremy said.  “Statistically, there are at least seven billion people I’ve never fucked.”

 

“You better get busy,” Alfredo said, also very drunk.

 

“I think I might be able to get everyone with this one,” Jack said, drawing everyone’s attention back to the game.  “Never have I ever fucked someone in this room.”  She was very right.

 

“You had the chance, Jack, but you shut me down,” Griffon toasted her drink in Jack’s direction.  Jack just laughed and tapped the neck of her beer bottle with Griffon’s.

 

“I like that Gavin called everyone sluts, and he might be the only person here who’s fucked three people in this room,” Michael pointed out.

 

“I’m at three,” Trevor announced.

 

“Can I ask a question that has no impact on anybody’s drink?” Ray asked.  No one said anything, so he went on, “Can I get a definition for fucking?” Jack burst out laughing, a heartwarming sound, unless you were Ray in this moment.  “What?!”

 

“Can I get a definition for fucking,” Jack repeated, laughing her head off.

 

“I just want to know what we’re counting,” Ray said defensively.  “Because we all know I don’t know what sex is, but I did take the two drinks, so if we could get a definition…”

 

“If you and someone else both had your dicks and/or vaginas out, it was probably fucking,” Geoff said.

 

“Alright, I can work with that,” Ray agreed with a nod.  “Thanks, Dad.”

 

“Does it change any of your answers?” Lindsay asked.

 

“No, I knew it wouldn’t,” Ray shook his head.  “I bring the comedy.”

 

“Where do you bring it? Can you bring it here instead?” Geoff replied.  A chorus of ‘oohs’ came from most of the others.  Lindsay mouthed ‘wow’.  Ray laughed.

 

“Never have I ever had a buttfor,” Jack said.  Most of the lads cracked up, but Ryan seemed genuinely confused.

 

“What – I… what?” Ryan asked.

 

"A buttfor," Jack repeated.

 

"Buttfor what?" Ryan asked slowly, very confused.

 

“Ryan, were you never on a school playground in your life?” Gavin asked. 

 

“He was in a book,” Geoff said.

 

“He was in a play,” Jack corrected.

 

“That… did happen,” Ryan agreed. 

 

“Do you really not know this?” Gavin asked, almost concerned.

 

“Know what?” Ryan asked.

 

“Ryan, do you have a buttfor?” Jack repeated.

 

“I don’t know, do I?” Ryan asked, still confused.  Jack and Jeremy sighed nearly in unison.  “I don’t know what that is!  What does that mean?”

 

“Well, how would you ask, if you don’t know what something is?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Ask for someone to explain it and hope that they do that instead of just saying ‘what’s a buttfor’?” Ryan asked.

 

“It’s for pooping, silly!” Jack exclaimed.  Everyone but Ryan burst out laughing, none harder than Jack, while Ryan shook his head slowly, regretting every life decision he’d ever made up to this point.

 

“That is the stupidest thing we have ever done,” Ryan said, monotone, before finishing his Diet Coke.

 

“It was all worth it,” Jack said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.  Geoff had damn near fallen out of his chair laughing as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if you have a buttfor
> 
> next time i guess we heist again and then it'll be christmas so like i guess we'll miss my guess of valentines day for that  
> we'll get there. together.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take this unedited jumble
> 
> warning for this chapter: flippantly equating neurotypical to normal by someone who is definitely neither
> 
> other than that this is pretty much 6k of almost nothing happening idk how... but it happened

“Hey.  Where the fuck are you?” Ray asked when Ryan finally picked up his phone.

 

“Your apartment,” Ryan replied.

 

“Why?” Ray asked dully, surprised but not excited that he’d gotten a straight answer.

 

“Because there’s only so many times I can clean my own apartment, and if I start doing any more cleaning at the penthouse, Jack is going to start asking questions,” Ryan said.

 

“Oh, God, you’re cleaning my apartment?” Ray asked, throwing his head back into the pillows on his bed. 

 

“It gives me something productive to do with my hands,” Ryan said.  Ray could hear running water through the phone he assumed Ryan had on speaker.  “You know, besides dismemberment and sex.”

 

“Yeah, I like hearing those two words in the same sentence from my boyfriend’s mouth,” Ray muttered.  “So we just had this management meeting, right?”

 

“Another one?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ray agreed.  “Right?  It seems unnecessary.  Anyway, you wanna tell me what exactly the hell you did to get yourself kicked out?  Because, uhhhh, meetings suck and they suck less when you’re there.”

 

“That’s not a phone conversation,” Ryan was laughing.  Why was he laughing?  “Come over here and I’ll tell you.”  Ray super did not want to do that.  He wanted to lie in this bed and not do anything for 72 hours until the next _fucking meeting_.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ray muttered, more of an obligatory response than anything else, and he slammed the red end call button on his phone.  Can you call it a button if it’s on a touch screen?  Grudgingly, Ray dragged himself out of the bed he’d like _just_ gotten into, put his jeans back on, armed himself, zipped his hoodie, slipped his vans back on, and grabbed his car keys.

 

In the hall, Ray ran into Jeremy and Gavin, who were having some kind of heated discussion that had most likely started with ‘million dollars but…’ and Ray couldn’t bring himself to care, just dodged between the two of them and ignored their attempts to pull him into the discussion.

 

Jack and Geoff were in the living room, getting actively competitive in some game they’d managed to turn on and get engrossed in since the meeting had ended ten minutes ago.  Ray lifted a hand to wave at them in the most apathetic way possible before he left the apartment.  He slammed the elevator’s down button seven or eight times for good measure, as it hadn’t really worked right since Ryan had fucked with the emergency stop button and Matt had done a remote override.  It seemed painfully long, waiting for the elevator to get all the way to the top floor, and Ray made a noise somewhere between a whine and groan in his throat, watching the needle slowly move from garage to penthouse.

 

When the elevator finally dinged open, it was blissfully empty.  He mashed the garage button and the doors closed again.  For some reason, Ray suddenly wondered where Charlie was, but figured either Ryan or Jeremy had her, and either way, she was perfectly safe.  How _Jeremy_ had become the weird third parent, Ray wasn’t really sure, though he knew he deserved it for disappearing like an asshole.

 

Ray hadn’t really been back long enough to stop wanting to run back to Austin, but he had Ryan back, and fuck if he was leaving him again.  He hadn't really done much in the way of socializing or making friends there, anyway, and the one contact he had that was worth keeping had added him on XBL, so Ray didn't really have to worry about it.

 

Still, something lurked in the back of his mind like a fucked up fight or flight response that was always on flight. Something about Los Santos wasn't right, something about Ryan wasn't right. Ray laughed at that thought, actually laughed out loud as he got into his Adder. Something about Ryan wasn't right? No fucking shit. At least Ryan was trying his best to pretend he was, and it was working with the rest of the crew. Only Jeremy and Jack knew the truth: Jack because she was incredibly astute and knew Ryan the best of really anyone, and Jeremy because Battle Buddies were no longer in action. Ray and Jeremy both made excuses for it to the rest of the crew, but Ray had ultimately made the decision that came with his new position. The unfortunate side effect was that Jeremy was effectively benched. Jeremy hadn't been happy about it, but Ray had been trying his best to keep him in action, pawning him off on Michael by pretending to be too busy with his new job to go out himself.

 

Speaking of Jeremy, why the fuck was he calling Ray right now?

 

"Yeah?" Ray answered the phone.

 

"Trevor wants a mission done, and he wants Battle Buddies to do it," Jeremy said. Ray put his Adder in park in the garage at his apartment next to Ryan's Zentorno and sighed. "I know, right?"

 

"It's not something you can do with Michael?" Ray asked.

 

"Michael's busy. Everyone is busy," Jeremy said.

 

"I'll ask him. Send me the deets. Worst case scenario I'll go with you," Ray said. Ray heard Trevor's voice in the background, but not loud enough to hear what he was saying.

 

"Ryan doesn't do that anymore," Jeremy said to Trevor. "Jack does most of the... um... interrogations."

 

"Jeremy?" Ray tried to get his attention back.

 

"Ray, I'm gonna have to, um..." Jeremy trailed off. "Trevor, stop it, I'm on the - oh, Christ - Ray, I'll text you!" Jeremy squeaked and the line went dead.

 

Ray stared at his phone for the remainder of the short elevator ride up to his apartment, and still had it in his hand when he tried the doorknob for his apartment and found it unlocked. He shut the door and locked it behind him.

 

"We leaving the doors unlocked now?" Ray called into the apartment.

 

"Honey, I'm way scarier than anything that's going to break into this apartment," Ryan replied, sticking his head out of the bedroom.

 

"So I guess Trevor wants the Battle Buddies to take a job," Ray began, "but I don't have the details, and I think I technically have veto power over any decision Trevor makes, and also I think staff meetings make him horny." Ryan blinked at this information, half startled. "I'm pretty sure he was trying to seduce Jeremy while we were on the phone just now."

 

"They want me for a job?" Ryan asked.

 

"You don't have to take it," Ray told him. "It's probably nothing Jeremy and I couldn't handle ourselves."

 

"Okay," Ryan said, disappearing back into Ray's bedroom. Ray followed him, and kicked off his shoes before starfishing on the bed.

 

"So why'd they kick you out of the gents? And don't say something stupid like they found out how much you know about dragon ball z," Ray said.

 

"They don't trust me," Ryan said. "Geoff and Michael and Jack, they don't trust me at all. To make good decisions, to use good judgment, to not snap and slaughter them all..."

 

"Yeah? Is that it?" Ray asked.

 

"Partially," Ryan said, picking up some dirty clothes that had been on the floor God knows how long.

 

"So what else is there?" Ray asked, sitting up on the bed but making no effort to help at all, despite the fact that this was his apartment.

 

"Just my past behavior coming back to bite me in the ass," Ryan rolled his eyes, slamming a dirty hoodie of Ray's into a pile of laundry. "And not even getting rowdy on heists or my killing sprees or even how I essentially lied to the crew for a year and a half about who I was. Which are all perfectly good reasons to not promote me. No, what really fucked them off was how I've acted these past months since my reset. Everything I have had no control over. But fuck it. What do I care? I'm not the Vagabond anymore, I'm barely even a member of the crew."

 

It broke Ray's heart to hear Ryan say it so casually yet so angrily, but not anywhere near as much as it must have hurt Ryan to say it.

 

"Fake AH would not be where it is today without the Vagabond," Ray said quietly, wanting to voice his opinion, but not wanting to make Ryan angrier or risk setting him off.

 

"I know," Ryan sighed, sitting down on the bed next to Ray. "And I want it back. I wish I could do it, I really do."

 

"It's not your fault," Ray said. "And maybe someday-"

 

"Don't say it," Ryan cut him off. "You're right. I'm going to tell Jack I'm retired."

 

"If that's what you want to do," Ray said. There was a period of silence wherein Ryan got up again to move all the dirty laundry into a bag so he could wash it later back at the penthouse. There were no laundry facilities in Ray's apartment building.

 

"It's not what I want to do," Ryan finally said, "it's what I have to do."

 

"If you're retiring from active duty, are you going to retire from your other duties as well?" Ray asked.

 

"I can probably handle weapons development," Ryan said. "If Geoff will let me. He might just kick me to the curb."

 

"Wasn't Geoff the one who fought to keep you here after I left?" Ray asked. "If he didn't want you here, he would have said so before now."

 

"I was still pretending to function then," Ryan said. "It's not exactly a secret I'm not."

 

"Fake it til you make it?" Ray joked.

 

"It's hard to fake," Ryan said, turning to tackle the mess on top of Ray's dresser. "I wish I didn't care. I wish I could just go along for the ride like I used to."

 

"I wish I knew how to help you," Ray replied. Ryan opened a trash bag loudly and started throwing old iced coffee cups and fast food wrappers into it. "Can you think of anything you haven't tried?"

 

"Cocaine," Ryan threw out, meaning it as a joke.

 

"You can have some of my weed if you want," Ray offered.

 

"I'm not going to get high and fuck around with firearms," Ryan almost snapped.

 

"Why not? It's not like you can permanently injure yourself," Ray pointed out. Ryan sighed. "Okay fine, what about some other kind of medication? It helped Griffon before."

 

"Do you think it's worth it to try to see a doctor?" Ryan asked. "This can't be a common problem."

 

"It might be worth it to see Dr. Burns," Ray said.

 

"People keep saying that," Ryan replied, not giving a definitive either way, as he continued to clean up the trash around the bedroom.

 

"Can I say something and not have you give me that look like you can't believe I actually know something because everyone thinks I'm stupid as hell?" Ray asked.

 

"I don't think you're stupid."

 

"Have you considered the possibility that your problems stem from something more naturally occurring than immortality?" Ray asked. Ryan stared at him with the exact look Ray had asked him not to and Ray rolled his eyes. "Seriously! Mental health is-"

 

"It can't be," Ryan cut him off. "I was normal before. I always have been." 

 

"Are you sure?" Ray asked. "You committed murder-suicide, dude, you can't blame me for asking."

 

Ryan stopped his cleaning to consider it, no doubt thinking back to the events that had caused him to kill his wife and then himself. He was quiet for much longer than Ray expected, but Ray didn't dare interrupt his thought. Finally he looked up at Ray.

 

"You may be right," Ryan admitted. "I may be crazy." Shoutout to Billy Joel.

 

"That's really separate from what we're talking about because yeah, you're the Mad King," Ray said. "You're kind of known for crazy."

 

"True." Ray's phone finally lit up with texts from Jeremy about the job Trevor wanted done. Ray skimmed it and groaned. "What?" Ryan asked.

 

"Don't worry about it. I'll take the job tonight," Ray replied.

 

"What is it?" Ryan asked.

 

"You do not want it," Ray prefaced, but Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, so Ray read off his screen. " _Hey so the job is pretty stupid, there's a guy Trevor wants taken down a few, I can probably go on my own. Don't bother Ryan with it, I can handle it._ "

 

"I don't like the idea of Jeremy on a torture run by himself," Ryan said.

 

"I'm sure he'd be fine, but I'm going with him," Ray said, sending a reply. "You gonna say you don't want me on a torture run?"

 

"I'm not saying it because it's dangerous, I say because Jeremy can be trigger happy," Ryan replied.

 

"Yeah, yeah, because I've never had to deal with a trigger happy criminal before," Ray rolled his eyes, stretching out on the bed again. "You know, my partner for the last year or so before I went to Austin was a trigger-happy mute in a mask and a sexy leather jacket."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah, I wanted to fuck him real bad the whole time," Ray said.

 

"Are you gonna come home from this job wanting to fuck Jeremy?" Ryan asked.

 

"Uhh.... It wouldn't be the first time," Ray laughed.

 

"What?"

 

"I mean, _noooo_ ," Ray corrected.

 

"Who was your partner before me?" Ryan asked.

 

"...Gavin." Ryan decided to change the subject.

 

"Alright, how about this one: your room at the penthouse is neat as a fucking pin. Why is your apartment a pigsty?" Ryan asked.

 

"Shit happens," Ray shrugged. "This apartment is my Depression Hell™."

 

"Is that so?"

 

"Listen, we're not all saints," Ray brushed it off. "If Jack hasn't broken into your house to physically make you eat, sleep, and take a shower, what are you doing with your immortality?"

 

"I've never thought of it that way," Ryan said, picking up a blanket from the bed and giving it a test sniff before ripping them all off the bed and adding them to the laundry pile. "When was the last time you even stayed here?"

 

"I stayed here for a few days when I got back from Austin," Ray said. "Before that... Boy. Probably like... Yeah, like a year ago? It's November now, you and I started dating in March, and I think I'd just moved back into the penthouse again like a month before that?" Ryan stripped the sheets off the bed too, causing Ray to have to roll over, and then Ryan snatched all the pillows as well, and Ray sighed, realizing he was not going to get comfortable. His morning had by no stretch of the imagination been eventful, but he certainly wouldn't say no to a nap before he had to go out tonight. "Are you still gonna be here when I get home tonight?"

 

"Depending on if all this laundry is done or not, probably," Ryan replied. Ray sighed. "No good? Where do you want me to be?"

 

"I miss you," Ray admitted. "I miss working with you, I miss everything we were when we started dating, before everyone knew you were the Vagabond, and before you went all legit."

 

"I'm not legit," Ryan said, waving the bottle of air freshener he had in his hand at Ray sassily. "Retiring and going legit are very different."

 

"They look the same," Ray said fairly. "It's like the difference between being invisible and just not being around, it looks the same."

 

"I wish I could too," Ryan agreed. "I'll ask Jack what she thinks, maybe I should see a therapist."

 

"Oh, _maybe_ ," Ray rolled his eyes.

 

"If you're going back to the penthouse, can you take some of this laundry?" Ryan asked, though Ray hadn't made any move to leave.

 

"I guess, seeing as it's my laundry," Ray agreed, sitting up.

 

"And then maybe put a load in the washer?" Ryan asked. "And maybe when it's done, put that load in the dryer and put another load in the washer?"

 

"Are you trying to get me agree to do my own laundry?" Ray asked. "I'm not a fucking slob, Ryan."

 

"Then why do you have so much laundry lying around?" Ryan asked.

 

"I don't have a car, Ryan, how am I supposed to get my laundry to a washing machine?" Ray retorted. Ryan looked blankly from Ray to the car keys in his hand and back to Ray's face, still waiting for an answer.

 

"Okay," Ryan finally agreed. "Just so I know, is there a chance that the real owner of that Adder is going to come for you in the middle of the night?"

 

"Not a big chance, no," Ray said, hopping off the bed. "Kiss me?" Ryan paused what he was doing to give Ray a kiss, then Ray grabbed a bag of laundry and started hauling it towards the elevator.

 

Jeremy was in the garage for some unknown reason when Ray pulled in, and he stopped to chat with Ray for a minute.

 

"So we meet at the Spot at 9ish?" Jeremy asked. Ray nodded, pulling his enormous garbage bag of laundry out of his Adder. "Do you need me to pick up anything out town? Ammo, bleach... Tide? A real hamper? What's with the laundry?"

 

"Ryan's cleaning my apartment. Don't ask," Ray rolled his eyes, proceeded to drag his bag towards the elevator. "Nah, I'm good, man, I'll see you then."

 

"Is this your car?" Jeremy asked, peering at Ray's Adder.

 

"Yeah? Why?" Ray replied.

 

"Nothing. It's nice. You don't see a lot of brown."

 

"BrownMan. Get it? It's a joke. My entire life is one big meme," Ray joked.

 

"Yeah, I get it. I think Joel Heyman used to have an Adder this color," Jeremy said, frowning at it.

 

"Did he? Weird," Ray replied. "What a coincidence. I've never met him, obviously, but that is very weird, because you don't see a lot of brown. Joel Heyman from the Roosters? No kidding." The elevator dinged next to him and the doors opened. "See you later!!" He hurried into the elevator with his laundry, avoiding the suspicious frown Jeremy had.

 

*

 

"You ever done a 636 before, Jer?" Ray asked. They were alone in the Armored Tim, no surveillance to speak of. Everyone else was busy with other jobs that required their support crew's attention more than a simple 636.

 

"A 636?" Jeremy replied.

 

"That's what we called them back in the day," Ray said. "It's the number on our warehouse."

 

"Not alone, technically," Jeremy said. "Did you steal Joel Heyman's Adder?"

 

"I don't know who that is," Ray lied. "The important thing to remember with these, Jeremy, is you're immortal and you heal fuckin fast. So if things get out of hand, I'm using you as a shield."

 

"Aren't you immortal?" Jeremy asked with a frown.

 

"Yeah, but I don't want to get hurt," Ray said. "I'll be honest, I've never been in the drivers seat of a 636 before. Only in the crow's nest."

 

"And we don't even have surveillance, this is going to be fucking terrible," Jeremy sighed.

 

"We don't need surveillance," Ray rolled his eyes. "You newbies are always talking surveillance. We almost never had surveillance before Matt. I have watched Jack and Geoff, and then Jack and the V- Ryan do like a gazillion of these things. I've done my own fair share of weaseling information out of people, too, just not usually with knives."

 

"How do you do it?" Jeremy asked.

 

"With my feminine wiles," Ray said dryly.

 

"Even Steffie? You expect me to believe Steffie is working tonight?" Jeremy changed the subject back.

 

"People are allowed to have nights off, Jeremy," Ray pointed out.

 

"Don't come bringing your logic in here," Jeremy said. "Didn't you date Joel?"

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ray said again seriously. "Did you see Jack earlier? What's up with her?"

 

"I think Geoff said she was taking a break," Jeremy said.

 

"Why?"

 

"I didn't ask. I'm fucking scared of her, dude," Jeremy said.

 

"J, you are literally so extra, _all the time_ , and you're still scared of Jack?" Ray asked. Jeremy shrugged. "Is the job too monotonous for her or too stressful or is she just having a midlife crisis?"

 

"Sounded more like midlife crisis to me," Jeremy said. "I think maybe it just dawned on her what immortality meant."

 

"Ohh, yeah, I've been there," Ray nodded. A voice came through the speakers of the Armored Tim, making them both jump.

 

"Wouldn't let Jack hear you talking shit, if I were you." It was Ryan. "Bet you forgot Geoff had the Armored Tim equipped with auto-surveillance mode."

 

"I did forget," Jeremy said. He turned to explain to Ray. "Basically..."

 

"No one trusts Ryan, yeah, I know," Ray finished. "What's up, babe? Where are you?"

 

"Nothing much, just chilling in my living room. Where are you?" Ryan asked.

 

"Waiting for the guy to come out of this club," Jeremy said, glancing up at the club down the street. Their recon told them he was part of an underground gambling thing inside the club.  Jeremy had pointed out that this would be the perfect sting for Jack and Michael to take, but Trevor had shut him down.  _'But they're the Betting Buddies,'_ Jeremy had protested.

 

"What are you wearing?" Ray asked Ryan.

 

"Ray," Jeremy frowned.

 

"Jeans and a t-shirt," Ryan replied. "What are you wearing?"

 

"Nothing but a pair of rubber gloves, and one sock. But it's not on my foot," Ray said.

 

"Interesting," Ryan said. Jeremy put his head in his hands.

 

"Anyway, Jeremy and I are busy, we have to go," Ray continued. "I'll tell you how it goes later."

 

"Okay, Hun, remember, you promised to wear a condom, and no mouth-kissing," Ryan said. Jeremy looked over at Ray.

 

"I'm kidding," Ray told him. "It's a joke. It works off the principle that I wanted to fuck the Vagabond when he was my partner and now I get to do that whenever I want."

 

"Oh, okay," Jeremy said. "I wasn't necessarily turning you down if you were into it, but I'm supposed to talk to Matt first and..."

 

"I was kidding," Ray assured him.

 

**

 

Ryan had been there earlier for Jack's breakdown, along with Geoff and Caiti. Griffon had been given the task of making sure the Lads didn't bother them.

 

"This is my fucking life, _forever_ , Geoff," Jack had said - really sobbed into Geoff's shoulder. "I can't die, none of us can, this is our fucking LIFE, and this is MY life and I _hate_ it!"

 

"What's the matter?" Ryan asked Jack cautiously. Caiti was sitting behind her, rubbing her back soothingly.

 

"Her health insurance denied her claim for estrogen again," Caiti said quietly.

 

"We have plenty of money, we can just pay for it outright," Ryan said. "I'll cut you a check right now."

 

"It's the principle," Caiti said.

 

"Did I fucking sign up for this?" Jack wailed. "Did I sign up to be a weepy pile of garbage crying into my boss's shirt? Should I have had a lawyer look at the fine print of my contract before I was born?"

 

"Probably," Geoff agreed, and Jack huffed, appreciative of the humor, but still annoyed at her life.

 

"Did I ask for this?" Jack asked Geoff. "When we met, did I ever mention I wanted to be a giant asshole who cries all the time?"

 

"This might be the first time I've seen you cry ever," Geoff responded. "I think you're a very great woman, I think you've accomplished way more than I ever could have in your place, and I think you're going to be just fine."

 

"What about you, Ryan? Do you think I'm a crybaby bitch loser?" Jack asked.

 

"No?" Ryan replied. "I think everyone's entitled to bad days and a vacation every once in a while."

 

*

 

So Jack was now on vacation, which meant everyone else's schedules were even more packed.

 

Michael was livid, not at Jack, but with Geoff, who still refused to do his own job, so everything was falling onto Michael and Ray. With all of the Gents out of commission, the job was definitely more stressful than ever. Ryan helped where he could, but there was only so much he could do.

 

Tension was very high at thanksgiving dinner. The entire crew was invited over, the ten regular crew, three wives and girlfriends who were technically consultants, Alfredo, and the support crew. ~20 people crammed into the penthouse eating Geoff's barbecue and Ryan's enchiladas.  Ray's worst nightmare if nothing else.

 

*

 

"We should have had this heist meeting like a month ago!" Michael insisted, slamming a fist into the table in the conference room. "The plans have been on my desk for weeks now, the support crew is ready to roll, and half the main crew doesn't even know we're heisting."

 

"Don't know why you're yelling at me about it," Ray said dully. "I'm with you."

 

"Fuck it. I'm calling the all crew heist meeting. Tomorrow morning? 9:30?" Michael asked, already typing a message to the whole crew.

 

"Yeah, sounds good to me."

 

HEIST

 

"Here we are again," Ray said from the head of the conference room table. The room was decidedly more crowded than it had ever been, with all fourteen of them squished into it. "I guess it's my job now to do this, so let's do it." He slammed a stack of papers onto the desk to punctuate his speech. "We are going into the Maze Bank."

 

"Oh there's no way this could end horribly," was the general consensus.

 

"You may be seeing some new different faces around the room," Ray said, as if he was addressing a room of preschoolers rather than grown adults. "Caiti, Meg, welcome, Griffon, welcome back."

 

"We needed more women around here," Lindsay said, approvingly.

 

"Five out of fourteen's not great," Jack said, "but we're getting there."

 

"Steffie, Kdin, Mica?" Trevor pointed out.

 

"Are they here?" Jack shot back.

 

"We're definitely over our average on fahking queers," Jeremy said in a very Boston accent.

 

"That's not very nice," Ryan berated him.

 

"Am I wrong?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Alright, raise your hand if you're not a fahkin queer," Ray rolled his eyes. Nobody moved. "Back to the heist." Michael began passing around heist packets from the pile Ray had brought for the rest of the crew to peruse. "Operation Waffle-O."

 

"Waffle-O?" Gavin asked.

 

"We're All Friends, Friends Love Each Other," Ray said. "Each Other is, in fact, two words. Hence the O. And we're not gonna fuck each other, because we're all friends."

 

"That's debatable, but continue," Michael muttered.

 

"Fourteen of us! Boy that's a lot, right? No way do we need that many people," Ray said. "Wrong. This is the Maze Bank we're talking about. Each member of this crew has been given a very specific job based on their own specific abilities."

 

"Did you do this all by yourself, X-Ray?" Gavin asked, looking through his packet.

 

"Mostly," Ray replied. "Ryan and Jeremy helped a little." Gavin nodded to himself. "Basically, we've got one spotter, that's Ryan, he'll be doing a bunch of different stuff, but he'll start the heist pretty much on the roof of the bank." Ryan nodded. "Two snipers, Me and Caiti. One of us will need to make the first shot into the bank from the top of this building to blow their initial security system and start the heist off right."

 

"Sure," Caiti agreed.

 

"Two teams of muscle, that's Short Temper and Team Crew Moms, going in from each of these entrances to clear the way down to the vault," Ray continued. "Team Losers will go into the front of the bank and run distraction."

 

"Amazing," Lindsay smiled.

 

"Meanwhile, Meg will be undercover inside the bank to make sure all the hacks are in the appropriate place. Team Same Same will rendezvous with her and Ryan and go for the vault. Geoff will help coordinate cash removal and the exit strategy," Ray finished.

 

"What is the exit strategy?" Geoff asked.

 

"At the moment? Run like hell," Ray said. "In a sec, I'll let Trevor and Ryan have the floor to talk about the tech. Matt, you'll be running surveillance from body cams, anything still running in the building after we blow it, and monitoring police as well as wanted levels. Did I miss anyone?" A consensus of no. "Okay. Any more questions?" Gavin, Trevor, and Jeremy all shot hands into the air immediately. "What?" Ray sighed.

 

"Yeah... that's not gonna work... I have a final that day?" Jeremy said.

 

"Same," agreed Gavin and Trevor.

 

"Does it have to be at 2? I think I can make it if we push it back to 3," Jeremy said.

 

"No good, mine's at 4:30," Trevor said.

 

"I'm gonna stab myself," Ray muttered.

 

"Sorry, man," Jeremy shrugged.

 

"Trevor, you've known about this heist for almost a month, and you never thought to mention...?" Ray asked.

 

"I don't know what to tell you," Trevor said.

 

"Okay! Everyone email me your goddamn schedules and I'll try to work something out," Ray said. "Ryan, your fuckin turn. Take over, I'm quitting." Ray sat down. Ryan hesitantly stood up.

 

"Okay. The good news is we managed to come up with some technology that might be helpful," Ryan said. "I have some working prototypes here with me." He pulled something out of his bag and put them on the table. It looked like a pulse grenade from Halo 4, so the mixed reactions from the people around the table that Ryan (who had been forcibly disarmed months ago) had so many of them just hanging out in his bag were somewhat justified. "I'll ignore the fact that half of you look like I just pulled an assault rifle out of my ass and move on. These are teleportation grenades. They work... most of the time. We still have some kinks to iron out."

 

"Oh, do they like feet?" Griffon asked. "Or, like, hentai?"

 

"We hope to be able to teleport people by the date of the heist, but no one really wants to be the first person to try," Ryan said. "Here's how they work." He plucked Gavin's sunglasses from the top of his head and tossed them into the corner of the room. Gavin made to protest, but Ryan was not having it. Instead, he pushed the button on the grenade and tossed it towards the sunglasses. The grenade exploded with a very digital noise, and both it and the sunglasses disappeared.

 

"My sunglasses!" Gavin screamed, horrified. Ryan held up a finger to hush him, and threw a second grenade. That one exploded with the same noise, and vanished, leaving behind Gavin's sunglasses, which Gavin ran to pick up before more ill befell them.

 

"Whoop-de-friggin-doo, so you can disappear sunglasses. How is that supposed to help us?" Geoff asked.

 

"This is how we're going to get all the money out of the Maze Bank," Ryan grinned. "Anyway, as soon as we get them to stop exploding, we'll be good to go. If anyone was willing to be a human test subject, I'd certainly appreciate it."

 

"What's the catch?" Michael asked. "What happens when they don't work?"

 

"Um... It's just a small explosion problem," Ryan waved a hand, "nothing big."

 

"Yeah, I'll help," Michael agreed with a sigh. "The bullshit I have to put up with all because I have the fastest respawn."

 

"What is yours?" Alfredo asked.

 

"15 minutes," Michael replied. "Well... on average. 10-20, actually, depending on extent of injury."

 

"Nice," Alfredo agreed.

 

"You?" Michael asked. Alfredo shook his head. "Alright."

 

"Confirmed, Michael is the fastest?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Yeah, unless you're faster," Ryan said. "He's faster than me."

 

"No, he's way faster than me," Jeremy shook his head.

 

"No one asked, but I'm the slowest," Ray piped up.

 

"Are you sure?" Caiti asked.

 

"Yes," Ray said. "Trust me." Everyone else just nodded. "There's a reason they don't let me down on ground support."

 

"You planned the heist, dickhead," Geoff said. "Are we done here?"

 

"I guess," Ray said with a shrug. The meeting adjourned.

 

"Everyone besides the Gents is invited to Lads night in the living room later," Michael called after them as they all left.

 

"Am I a gent?" Griffon asked.

 

"You can come if you want to," Michael told her. "You too, Caiti."

 

"Dating a Gent does not make you a Gent, confirmed," Ray laughed.

 

"Does get you a sick promotion though," Michael said. Almost everyone was clearing out. Only the OG lads were left in the conference room. "OG Lads" in this instance being Michael, Gavin, Ray, Lindsay, and Jeremy.

 

"So this heist is going to be bullshit, right?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Should be okay," Ray shrugged. "Not expecting a lot of casualties. Maybe Lindsay and Gavin, but only because I don't have a good exit strategy nailed down for them."

 

"We can handle it," Lindsay said.

 

"I need your shooting skills assessments while we're on the subject," Ray said. "All of yours except Jeremy's. Meg's too."

 

"Even mine?" Michael asked, frowning.

 

"Yeah, I don't have a recent one," Ray said.

 

"I just did one like a month ago!" Lindsay complained.

 

"And you failed it," Ray replied. "You're welcome for the assist."

 

"You failed your fucking shooting assessment?!" Michael exclaimed.

 

"Only a little bit!" Lindsay replied.

 

"Only a little bit like a D is a passing grade or-"

 

"No, straight up failed it," Ray confirmed.

 

"The one in her file is mine," Jeremy admitted.

 

"Lil J, I'm curious, how often do you just decide to do whatever you want and say screw it?" Gavin asked.

 

"Pretty much always," Jeremy said.

 

"It's what makes him lovable," Lindsay smiled.

 

"And the fact that you're sleeping with our boss?" Michael pointed out.

 

"Who, Trevor?" Jeremy asked. "How is that different than you and Lindsay?"

 

"We're married," Michael said plainly, as if that covered any question anyone could have.

 

"Besides, I'm not sleeping with Trevor that much anymore," Jeremy said, "and when I was, he wasn't our boss."

 

"Matt Bragg's in charge of records," Ray said. "Jeremy practically runs this crew with the amount of power that gives him."

 

"Whatever I might or might not do with anyone else in this crew does not give me that much power," Jeremy protested. "Your boyfriend's the fucking Vagabond!"

 

"He used to be," Ray said quietly, without really thinking.

 

"Used to be your boyfriend or used to be the Vagabond, because either way..." Lindsay began.

 

"Ryan still is the Vagabond," Michael said. "Even if he is retired."

 

"He's not retired. Is he?" Gavin asked, looking at Michael.

 

"Word on the street. Not difficult to figure out. When was the last time he was on a job?" Michael said.

 

"Before Ray got promoted," Lindsay said. Everyone's eyes turned to Ray.

 

"I'm not getting in the middle of whatever vendetta the four of you suddenly have against Ryan," Ray said, folding his arms.

 

"I'm not in this," Jeremy said.

 

"Is he retired or not?" Gavin asked Ray.

 

"He's on the next heist, isn't he? He's developing our tech, isn't he?" Ray replied.

 

"You worked very hard to make it look seamless," Michael said, picking up one of the leftover heist packets.

 

"Are you ganging up on me for doing my job?" Ray asked.

 

"Lay off him," Jeremy interjected. "It's none of our business. The heist plan looks great. I'm sure Griffon is excited to be back in the field."

 

"Sure unless she freaks out in the middle of the heist and costs us the whole thing," Michael said.

 

"She won't," Ray assured them. "She's fine. Tell him she's fine, Gav."

 

"Seems alright, yeah. Better than she's been in years," Gavin agreed. "Think Geoff stepping back to spend more time with her has helped."

 

"Speaking of spending more time, I'm out," Ray said, finally getting up from the table. "If you assholes figure out a better day for the heist, let me know." He peace bitched them and left the conference room.

 

Ryan was in his own bedroom, a rarity, at least in Ray's memory.

 

"What kind of creepy shit are you hiding in here?" Ray asked, looking around the sparse furniture.

 

"Nothing?" Ryan guessed. "I think the craziest thing in here is probably a bag of dog treats."

 

"So you're saying you keep your giant stash of dildos are your apartment?" Ray joked.

 

"Of course," Ryan replied. "What would I do with them here?"

 

"A valid point," Ray said. "So the Lads are being assholes?"

 

"What else is new. What have the three of you gotten into this time?" Ryan asked.

 

"There's five of us," Ray corrected. "And they won't shut up about you and your so-called retirement."

 

"I start seeing a therapist on Monday," Ryan said.

 

"That's good."

 

"I've been told she won't call the cops on me if I tell her the truth, but I don't know if I trust that," Ryan said.

 

"Who told you that?" Ray asked.

 

"Your pal Burnie," Ryan said.

 

"He's pretty trustworthy. I think you can believe him on that," Ray said. "I don't know if you'll get the results you want right away, though."

 

"I know that," Ryan agreed. "I hope it does help though. Did you or Kdin find anything related to immortality that is remotely useful?"

 

"I didn't," Ray admitted. "I did, like, barely look, though. I'll ask Kdin later if she found anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has rapidly gotten out of hand my dudes... 
> 
> next time!!! or at least coming up soon! "soon" being a relative term which here means 'in the future but not necessarily soon because you know me by now and that's a big ol lie'  
> ryan's therapy appointment! ryan's birthday! heist! Christmas!   
> idk if that will all fit in the next chapter but i'll try.  
> then after that there's like two chapters probably? could be 50. don't know.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yo yo yo yo yo here it is! hot off the press! literally. like i just finished this and by just finished i mean i wrote almost half of this today cuz im back on my raywood bullshit.
> 
> Meanwhile, it’s a heist!

Ray heard the doorknob turn and immediately shoved his DS back into his sweatshirt. Ryan stepped out of the room, still alive, still in one piece. He thanked the therapist, who cheerfully reminded him to say hi to Jeremy for her, and then Ryan looked at Ray.

 

"How'd it go?" Ray asked.

 

"It's not the worst," Ryan admitted.

 

They left her office and wandered through a tiny strip mall in Rockford Hills while Ryan processed his appointment.

 

"It was good," Ryan finally decided. "I think I'm gonna keep seeing her. I think she can help me a lot."

 

"Good," Ray smiled. "At least we don't have to kill her."

 

"No, she's nice," Ryan said.

 

"So... Your birthday is, like, soon," Ray said.  "Tomorrow, even."

 

"Yeah," Ryan agreed. "The big three-one."

 

"Pretty sure after 29 you're supposed to start lying," Ray said.

 

"Sure," Ryan laughed. "I'll lie about my age for the next seven years, and then we'll both be 29. That's how it works."

 

"Exactly," Ray agreed. "Are we going somewhere fun?"

 

"We have still never been to Denny's," Ryan said.

 

"That can't be true," Ray said, appalled. "Besides, it's your _birthday_ , let's at least go to a Waffle House."

 

*

 

"Ryan, I have to protest," Ray said, looking out the car window.  It was the next evening, and they were going to dinner for Ryan's birthday. "This is neither a Waffle House nor a Denny's. There's no breakfast at this institution at all!"

 

"Oh hush," Ryan rolled his eyes. "Why are you bitching? You're not the one paying for it."

 

"You're gonna pay for your own birthday dinner?" Ray said. "Lame."

 

"You can lay down the fat stacks for our anniversary dinner," Ryan said.

 

"You think we're gonna last another three and a half months?" Ray asked. "Or is our anniversary in November now?"

 

"I don't care. Let's eat," Ryan said, opening his car door.

 

"Is Meg your longest relationship?" Ray asked as they hurried across the parking lot.

 

"Why?"

 

"This is mine," Ray continued. "Not including Gavin because neither of us really know when that ended."

 

"Are you looking to beat that record?" Ryan asked, holding the door open for Ray, who scurried through.

 

"Shouldn't I be?" Ray replied. Conversation on the topic lulled as Ryan talked to the host about their reservation and they were seated. Both politely declined the wine and got a dirty look from their server.

 

"It's not personal. Alcohol culture: if you don't drink you're cheap," Ryan told Ray.

 

"Why would I pay 11 dollars to drink something that tastes awful and makes me do weird things?" Ray said. Ryan chuckled.

 

"Not everyone's boyfriend is as handsome and fun to be around as me," Ryan said.

 

"True. It explains why the rest of the crew are fucking alcoholics," Ray agreed. Ray opened his menu and was hit with the familiar feeling of having far too many choices.

 

"How hungry are you? Should we get an appetizer?" Ryan asked him.

 

"I am a bottomless pit. I can and will eat everything," Ray said.

 

"Okay," Ryan hummed, perusing his menu. A section of his dyed-black hair fell from his ponytail and Ryan instinctively reached up to push it behind his ear.

 

"I still can't believe you dyed your hair black," Ray said. Ryan looked up from his menu.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Your hair. You dyed it," Ray said.

 

"Oh. Yeah. I'll bleach it back in a while," Ryan replied, returning to his menu. "The roots are really starting to be a hassle. Meg was talking to me about doing shadow roots next time to make an eventual ombre. Sounded good, but I'm not really sure the difference between ombre and balayage."

 

"Makes you look ... I dunno, intimidating," Ray said ignoring everything Ryan had just said in lieu of asking what the fuck it meant. Ryan looked at Ray over the top of his menu, eyebrows raised. "I don't know."

 

"Should I wear a backwards baseball cap? Will I blend in better with the youths?" Ryan asked.

 

"I said intimidating, not old!" Ray said, louder than he'd meant to. "But, yeah, it probably would."

 

"Are we thinking queso or guac? What kind of mood are we in?" Ryan asked.

 

"Those sound great but this isn't a mexican restaurant. They offered us wine, not tequila," Ray replied.

 

"Mm. Good point," Ryan said, returning to his menu.

 

"Are you okay? Did you take a fuckton of drugs this morning? Should you be driving?" Ray asked.

 

"Breadsticks it is," Ryan said, not answering the question. "You like alfredo, right?"

 

"The Sauce? Or like the sauce?" Ray asked. "The human or the food? Doesn't matter. Yes to both."

 

"Geoff doesn't eat anything white, did you know that?" Ryan said.

 

"Yeah, it's weird, I guess," Ray agreed. "Are you feeling okay? Are you... high right now?"

 

"What if I am?" Ryan asked, looking over at Ray again. Ray shrugged. They were both quiet for a moment, looking at their menus. Their server showed up to take their appetizer order (Ryan ordered a cheese platter, despite his earlier decision of breadsticks), and Ray finally said something.

 

"It's not my business, I guess, but just in case it becomes medically relevant, what did you take?" Ray asked, voice steady, but not looking at Ryan.

 

"Michael said I'd be fine," Ryan said, not answering the question. If Michael had given Ryan something, it was probably an edible at worst, so it wasn't like Ryan had gotten his hands on amphetamines. Still Ray pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Michael under the table. "Will you make fun of me if I order eggplant parm?"

 

"No?" Ray shrugged. "I'm looking at this BLT panini tbh." Ray got a text back from Michael, who confirmed he'd been giving out edibles at the penthouse while Ray and Jeremy were out working and all the Gents had been pretty blazed most of the afternoon. As is the case with literally anyone who's ever had edibles ever (especially for the first time), none of them listened to Michael's half-hearted warnings about only having a half a cookie until they knew how it would affect them. Michael also wrote ' _Geoff keeps saying his brain is melting and he's eaten four bags of m &ms_' and ' _Griffon is really mad at me but I think probably only because she didn't get any_ '. Ray decided this was literally the funniest thing that could have ever happened and rolled with it.

 

"Do you have any cheez-its?" Ryan asked.

 

"With me? No," Ray replied.

 

"I don't know, I really just want cheez-its," Ryan said with a sigh.

 

"We can stop by Walgreens on the way home," Ray suggested. A food runner came out with their cheese platter and Ryan's eyes got very wide.

 

"I completely forgot I ordered this," Ryan said, digging in.

 

"Please tell me I'm better at handling my high than you are and I haven't been acting this stupid for months," Ray said, nearly putting his head in his hands.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about. Try some of this cheese, it's great," Ryan insisted. "And look at the plate! It's oblong!"

 

"Yeah? You like oblong plates?" Ray asked, not sure why he'd bothered to try to continue conversation, especially on this topic.

 

"Usually they're round. But sometimes, SOMETIMES they're oblong," Ryan affirmed.

*

 

Dinner was delicious, and as time went on, Ryan seemed to get less weird and more normal gradually, though he was even more talkative than usual, not that Ray minded. Ray drove them to the pier after dinner, because it was December and the carnival was only open on weekends for tourists stupid enough to venture into Los Santos. But as citizens, they were free to roam down the deserted pier, to brave the wind to watch the ocean.

 

"You'd think living in Los Santos my whole life, I'd get bored of looking at the ocean, but I really don't," Ray said.

 

"I don't either," Ryan said. They both reached the end of the pier and Ray sat on the edge. Ryan sat next to him and stared out into the open ocean. It was night, and next to nothing was visible, besides a few lights on yachts and other boats parked in the harbor. Beyond that, the dark horizon and the moon, which was not quite full, maybe 3/4 of a moon, but bright enough and nice to see. Ray leaned into Ryan to shelter himself from the wind, and Ryan put his arm around Ray.

 

"What do you think about? When you see the water?" Ray asked.

 

"I don't know as I think of anything specific," Ryan said. "Gavin drowned here one time, I think. I used to come to the pier when I was a kid, maybe that."

 

"Gavin would drag me out here when we were younger. Griffon gave him the idea of scamming the carnies, and he needed a wingman," Ray said. "But the water is different. It's peaceful. But it's not, because the ocean is terrifying and filled with who knows what, but it looks calm on the outside. And I think that's all of us, isn't it?"

 

"That's deep," Ryan said, staring out over the water again.

 

"Yeah, it's the ocean, that's the whole point, it's deep," Ray replied.

 

"Why do you try to hide how smart you are from everyone?" Ryan asked, ignoring Ray's sarcasm except for a small chuckle.

 

"I dunno, I don't want to raise their expectations just to fail them all," Ray said. "If this heist fails, if even Gavin doesn't survive, I'm a failure, you know that, right?"

 

"That's not true and I think you know that," Ryan told him. "Your job is to make the crew into a cohesive unit and it's not easy. Not everyone can do that. I don't know if I could. Individually, we've all got flaws, but your job is to exploit our strengths to cover our weaknesses, and you've done it well, given the handicaps."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ray asked.

 

"Handicaps? Not knowing Alfredo very well, not being able to rely on the Vagabond like we could in the past," Ryan listed off.

 

"But I can rely on Ryan," Ray said. "Even as a non-combatant, you're a decent shield. So you've moved from DPS to tank. Everyone's got a job to do. Mine isn't that interesting. Do I wish I could be in the weeds with Jack and Michael? Hell yeah. Am I going to put myself in that position because I think it would be fun? Hell no. I'm squishy. For some reason, the idiot allocating my skill points threw everything into dexterity and left me with nothing in the way of hp or mana or pretty much anything else."

 

"Intelligence," Ryan said.

 

"Maybe," Ray relented, "but still. Doesn't change the fact that my job is to protect from a distance without the risk of ever getting hurt."

 

"What about Matt Bragg?" Ryan asked.

 

"He'll get trained someday, I assume," Ray said. "Or he won't. Maybe he doesn't exist. Maybe he's actually just a computer masquerading as a human."

 

"Jeremy would be disappointed," Ryan said with a chuckle.

 

"I try to think about Jeremy and Matt banging as little as possible," Ray said.

 

"I think you're in the majority there," Ryan agreed. "You never tried to build a robot when you were a kid?"

 

"No, Ryan, I had real friends," Ray said.

 

**

 

“Yoo!!!!” came the yell down the hall.  Knocks on every door.  Ray rarely woke up so angry.  “Fredo and I are going to Bucks!  Put in your orders!  Rise and shine!”

 

“What the fuck,” Ray muttered.

 

“I’ll get it,” Ryan said, rolling out of bed and shuffling to the door.

 

“Are you wearing clothes?” Ray asked.  Ryan looked down.

 

“Yes,” he replied.

 

“Really?” Ray asked, raising his head.  He saw Ryan’s blurry but very bare butt near the door.

 

“No,” Ryan corrected himself.  He stuck his head around the door, told Trevor their order for Starbucks and followed it with, “if you ever wake me up like that again, you’re going to find yourself praying for the days of my murder break.”

 

“Oookay, noted,” Trevor said, moving on.

 

It was the morning of their heist.  No one was required to be anywhere until noon, the pre-heist rendezvous in the living room, then places by 2, except Ray and Caiti (and Matt), who needed to be in position earlier, but still not until after noon, which was a staunch three hours from now.

 

“Who do I call for hits now?” Ray asked Ryan, as Ryan crawled back into bed with him.  “Since you’re retired from that kind of thing.”

 

“I could make an exception for Trevor,” Ryan grumbled, putting his face into the pillows and trying to get back to sleep.

 

“What’s his respawn?  If you bipped him now, would he be back in time for the heist?” Ray asked.

 

“Unfortunately, I feel like even if he was, the fallout would not,” Ryan replied. 

 

“I’m going back to sleep.  If anyone else wakes me up before 11:53, they’re getting a pistol in the face,” Ray threatened.

 

“I’m going to assume you’re serious,” Ryan said, muffled by his pillows.

 

“Try me bitch,” Ray mumbled, drifting back to sleep.

 

Ray’s alarm went off at 11:53, and he woke up disoriented, confused, annoyed, and tired.

 

“Red bull,” Ray said, hoping someone was near him with a red bull.

 

“Your Starbucks got warm,” Ryan told him, rattling the last dregs of ice cubes around in what used to be an iced coffee.  Ray groaned and reluctantly rolled out of bed, fumbling for his glasses.  Ryan was standing in the doorway, fully dressed, new jacket, new facepaint, still black hair in a ponytail, and holding an empty iced coffee cup.  Ray frowned at him.  “Okay, I lied, yours is in the fridge.  This one was mine.”  Ryan sipped innocently on the straw, which only resulted in bare slurping sounds.  Ray haphazardly pulled underwear and jeans on before stepping into the bathroom to piss and glare at himself in the mirror for a moment.  Then he put on his crew t-shirt and his purple hoodie, before loading his pockets with his various possessions and weapons. 

 

“Okay, let’s go,” Ray said, finally taking his phone from the charger and stuffing it in his pocket. 

 

Ray led the way to the living room (larger than the conference room for 14), with Ryan behind him.  Everyone else was already gathered, some still finishing their drinks from Starbucks, others moved on to energy drinks or sodas, and still others (Matt Bragg in particular) sucking down donuts.  Ryan crossed the room to stand near the donuts.

 

“First of all, I don’t actually know how much power I hold in this crew, but if anyone ever wakes me up like Trevor did this morning, I’m putting a hit on them,” Ray began.

 

“I think that’s fair,” Griffon agreed.

 

“Excuuuuse me for trying to get everyone a little cup of happy,” Trevor said, crossing his arms defensively.  Alfredo stood next to him, looking very much like his twin, sipping from an almost empty Starbucks cup innocently.  Gavin was faffing about behind them, looking like their blond triplet, sipping on his second red bull (after his large mocha Frappuccino).  He was, for sure, going to be an absolute menace in the bank lobby.

 

Michael fidgeted with what looked like one of Gavin’s gold plated knives.  Griffon watched him intently.  Geoff looked the most awake of anyone, but bored in his armchair.  Caiti was wide awake and sitting in Jack’s lap.  Jack, on the other hand, looked like she was falling asleep, even as Caiti tried to offer her some of her iced coffee.

 

Lindsay had a donut in one hand and a red bull in the other, ready to go.  Jeremy was obsessively checking the pockets of his body armor for all the weapons he’d need on ground support.  Meg, of everyone, seemed the calmest, sitting next to Lindsay, holding an empty cup in one hand, and texting with the other. 

 

“Let’s go over the plan one more time, shall we?” Ray said.  Cue Ray’s voiceover for the heist montage.

 

_Each of you will be outfitted with body cams, basically just Go Pros, so Matt will have eyes inside the bank.  Ryan, Caiti, Meg, and I will need to be in position by no later than 1:30.  Ryan, you’re spotting from the top of the bank, Meg, you’re going to be the man on the inside, and Caiti and I will be perched on opposite sides of the bank with different views._

_By 2pm, everyone else is expected to be in position.  Lindsay and Gavin will take the main entrance on the south of the bank and hold everyone’s attention for as long as possible, creating a lockdown situation.  Michael and Jeremy, you’ll enter from the street level west side of the bank and head inwards.  Griffon and Jack, same thing but from the east.  Alfredo and Trevor, closely follow them from the deliveries entrance on the north side, where Geoff will be waiting with the truck._

_Once the security blows in the bank, Team Losers will start their distraction.  Ryan will meet tank for Team Same Same, and use the future cubes to transport the money and our six crew members in the underbelly of the bank.  We split up the cubes so the one containing our people goes back out to Geoff, who leads the police on a chase directly back here, to 4 Integrity Way.  The cube containing all the money and valuables will get to Meg’s possession, and she’ll calmly walk out the front doors with it in her purse.  Once the police have handled the situation with Gavin and Lindsay, we should be all out of the bank.  Caiti, from her position on the roof of our lovely home here at Integrity Way, will call out any police circling the area.  Party in the USA.  Simple.  On my mark, yeah?_

 

“On my mark,” Ray announced, looking down the scope of his sniper rifle into the window of the Maze Bank, behind which was a very specific target Ray needed to hit with a special bullet that would silently blow all the security in the building and give Matt the access he needed to set up dupe cameras.  “Three, two, one…”

 

The heist went about as well as it could have gone.  Gavin and Lindsay scraped out of the situation with their lives somehow.  Michael and Jeremy took heavy guard fire on their way in, but they were basically fine by the time Ryan popped them out of the cube in the garage.  Jack and Griffon had fared better with no serious injuries.  Despite the excellent cover fire provided to them by Team Short Temper and Team Crew Moms, Ryan still ended diving on an explosive to protect Trevor and Alfredo, and had suffered some damage, but nothing he couldn’t heal, he said. 

 

Unfortunately for Ray, he was not aware of the extent of Ryan’s injuries, and was blindsided with a happy but very bloodied Ryan when he finally got back to the penthouse.

 

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ray exclaimed as Ryan hobbled to the door to greet him.  “Why are you covered in blood?  Is that yours??”

 

“He’s an idiot!” Geoff called helpfully from the conference room.  The door was open, and Ray could see Geoff, Jack, and Michael counting the cash while Gavin and Lindsay sorted valuables.

 

“I’m an idiot,” Ryan said to Ray.  “I’ll be fine in a few hours.  Probably.  Nothing I haven’t had before.”

 

“Your jacket’s all messed up!” Ray said.  “Why haven’t you cleaned up?”

 

“I think, I _think_ he was waiting for you,” Meg said from the couch.  She was playing some xbox on the couch with Alfredo.

 

“Jesus, Ryan!” Ray half-yelled, exasperated, as he pushed Ryan down the hall towards the bathroom.  “Geoff will kill you if you get blood on the carpet, dude, come on, you’re smarter than that.”

 

“I did it,” Ryan said quietly, as Ray pushed him through the door to his own bedroom and shut the door behind them.

 

“What did you do?” Ray asked, not sure what Ryan was talking about.

 

“I got through the heist,” Ryan said.  His breathing was slowing, and Ray wasn’t sure why.  Maybe he was more messed up than he looked, but if he was, he should have let Jack or someone patch him up.  “Didn’t fuck anything up.”  Ray pulled the tatters of Ryan’s black leather jacket off him.  His tshirt was in a similar state, and most of his skin was either burned or bleeding from shrapnel.

 

“Ryan, you’re a fucking dead man walking.  Why didn’t you get any help?” Ray asked.

 

“You said – you said if anyone went down, you’d be a failure,” Ryan said, wiping the blood coming from his mouth away with his forearm.  Ray tried to finagle Ryan into his bathroom, so he’d stop dripping blood on the carpet.

 

“And you said that wasn’t true,” Ray pointed out.  “You need… God, Ryan.”  Ryan dropped in the bathtub, and Ray could barely keep him from hitting his head on the faucet.  “I don’t – I don’t know what to do.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Ryan said, breaths getting more ragged.  “I’ll be…”  He tried to swallow and ended up spitting some more blood out.  “Hey.”  Ray looked at him again, and his eyes were open this time.  “Hey, I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Ray replied, taking Ryan’s barely outstretched hand in his.

 

“I’m so happy you came back,” Ryan said with a grin.  Ray didn’t have time to respond.  Ryan’s head, grin still plastered on the front, went lax against the wall of the shower, and his grip went limp in Ray’s hand.

 

“You’re fucking immortal,” Ray said, tears threatening to fall.  “It doesn’t have to be this fucking dramatic every time you die, you _drama queen_!”  He pulled his hand away from Ryan’s and wiped the tears from his face.  “Fuck!”

 

Ray didn’t really know what to do now.  The high of the heist was combining with the frustration and sadness of their only casualty.  He knew he could easily lie, say Ryan was taking a nap, but he wasn’t sure what Ryan’s respawn time actually was, only that Michael was faster (which wasn’t saying a lot, as Michael was faster than everyone).  Jeremy would know, but did Ray actually want to ask?  No, he didn’t.  He wanted to calm down, lie through his teeth to the rest of his crew, change his clothes, calm down again, and… that was it.  He didn’t have a plan further than that.  Maybe he’d get lucky and Ryan would be back by then. 

 

Ray tried desperately to stop crying and to regulate his breathing.  Once he’d managed that to an extent, he stood up and looked at himself in the mirror.  He didn’t look good, but maybe no one would look at him closely.  He could pretend he was fine until he actually was fine.  He’d done it before.  Ryan was fine, he was fine, everyone was fine, and they were filthy stinking rich.

 

Ray took a deep breath and stepped through the door of Ryan’s room into the hallway, closing the door behind him.  He made it about halfway to his own room before someone found him.  It was only Jeremy, but Ray still froze, afraid he’d been found out.

 

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked in an undertone, taking a few steps in Ray’s direction.  Ray didn’t know how to rationally respond to that, still frozen in place.  “Ray?”

 

“Yeah?” Ray replied, finally gathering himself enough to respond. 

 

“Are you okay?  You look… upset?” Jeremy said.

 

“I’m fine,” Ray said, with what he hoped was an attempt at a smile.

 

“Did Ry-” Jeremy began, but Ray shook his head quickly.

 

“He’s taking a nap,” Ray lied.  He hoped he was convincing, and knew immediately that Jeremy didn’t believe him.

 

“Okay,” Jeremy nodded, though.  “I’ll cover for you if you want to be alone.”  Ray stared for a moment, but Jeremy seemed sincere.

 

“Thank you,” Ray said quickly before darting into his bedroom.

 

Jeremy was a good guy, a great friend. Ray knew if Jeremy said he would cover for him, then he would.  Ray needed a change of clothes and a shower. Counting cash was not in the forefront of his mind. He was the planning guy, apparently, post-heist was not on him.

 

The stress of the job was getting to him. With Jack and Geoff only willing to focus on this heist, if that, more and more of the day to day crew stuff had been falling through Trevor, Steffie, and Larry onto Ray, Michael, and even Lindsay, who was still partially blind, and might be for the rest of her life. Ray had no idea how Geoff used to do the job by himself. Maybe the crew had been smaller then, the jobs more low risk, but... Anyway.

 

When Ray finished his shower, he got dressed and thankfully made it back to Ryan's room without anyone noticing him. They didn't seem to really care that he wasn't in the living room with everyone else.

 

Ryan was still in his bathtub and Ray sighed. How long had it been? He didn't know. He could see Ryan's skin was slowly patching itself back together, the shrapnel clinking to the tub every so often as it fell out of his healing wounds.

 

Ray didn't know why he was such a dumb sap. He felt like he wanted to sit there on the floor and hold Ryan's dead hand until he came back to life, but part of him was scared.  When Ryan had done his reset, he'd been different, and it had taken him months to even out again. Would this be another harsh reset? Should Ray tell Jeremy what was really going on? Was Ryan going to wake up and take out all 13 of them before letting himself loose on the populace of Los Santos? It was a very valid concern.

 

Reluctantly, Ray left Ryan's room again and headed into the living room.

 

"Hey," he said quietly, sneaking up on Meg, Alfredo, and now Jeremy and Matt on the couch.

 

"Hey!" Meg smiled, looking up to see him. "What's up? Very successful heist, good job, kid."

 

"Thanks," Ray replied. "Can I borrow Jeremy? I need to ... our next job...."

 

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed, getting up from the couch and following Ray back down the hall to Ryan's room. "What's up?"

 

"He's..." Ray said, gesturing at the empty bed, but not being able to bring himself to say it.

 

"Obviously," Jeremy said. "And?"

 

"Fuck _obviously_ ," Ray shot back, rolling his eyes.

 

"He jumped on a grenade, I'm surprised he stayed in one piece," Jeremy said.

 

"Should I be worried," Ray asked, "that he...won't be of...you know...sound mind when he wakes up?"

 

"I don't know," Jeremy admitted.  “If I were you, I might be.  I can stay with him if you want me to.”

 

“I don’t want you to have to,” Ray sighed.

 

“I don’t want you to leave again,” Jeremy replied.

 

“Yeah, that’s a thing,” Ray said.  He rubbed his face in frustration.  He was tired of worrying, tired of stressing, tired in general.

 

“He’s not a slow respawner.  He’s faster than me,” Jeremy said, taking a few steps towards the bathroom door to see if he was awake yet.

 

“Well, he was dead on his feet since he left the bank,” Ray said.  “I don’t wanna, like, talk about my feelings with you, because that’s weird and we don’t do that, but like…. I really don’t want to share with Gavin even more.”

 

“I’ll listen.  I can’t guarantee I’ll give any good advice,” Jeremy said.  “Actually, I can practically guarantee my advice would be useless, but I’ll listen.”

 

“Nah,” Ray said.  Jeremy raised his eyebrows.  “It’s just complicated.”

 

“Complicated how?”

 

“Maybe it’s not,” Ray said fairly.  “Sometimes I think everyone was right about him.  That he was too dangerous.”

 

“Hot take?  Nah,” Jeremy said, shaking his head.  “He knows what he’s done.  He’d be stupid to lose you again.”

 

“Yeah, true,” Ray agreed.  “I am a catch.”  Jeremy laughed.  “Okay, well… I’ll just wait.  Not like he’s armed.  Just wish I could… yeah.  Okay.  Thanks J.”

 

“You’re welcome?  I think?” Jeremy said.  “I’ll cover for you if anyone comes looking.”

 

“Thanks.”  Jeremy left the bedroom and Ray went back into the bathroom to stare at Ryan’s lifeless body.  He looked mostly patched up.  He’d be waking up soon, hopefully.

 

Ryan slowly came to.  Not one of the sitting bolt upright gasping for air respawns, but a very easy awakening.  Ray noticed first that Ryan was breathing again, and not too long after, Ryan had opened his eyes.  He didn’t say anything at first, so neither did Ray, just waiting for Ryan to react.  Ryan spared a glance at Ray, then looked down at his own body, touching his chest and feeling the unbroken skin under the dried blood.

 

“Alive,” Ryan said quietly, to himself, most likely.  Then he looked at Ray and brightened significantly.  “Hi!”

 

“Hi,” Ray replied with a smile.

 

“You didn’t have to stay here,” Ryan said.  Ray shrugged.

 

“You would have stayed with me,” Ray said.

 

“Maybe.  I’d get hungry after a few days,” Ryan joked.

 

“Are you okay?” Ray asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ryan said.  “As soon as I get all this blood off me.  Holy shit, did I bleed out?”

 

“I think maybe,” Ray said.  “You didn’t look good.”

 

“You weren’t worried, were you?” Ryan teased, stretching his legs before he got up.

 

“No,” Ray scoffed.  “Not seriously worried.  Only because you’re so friggin dramatic.”

 

“Theater major,” Ryan grinned.

 

“I swear I don’t know why I like you,” Ray said dramatically.

 

“I guess the good news is I have to go back to the old jacket,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Well…. Good,” Ray crossed his arms.  Ryan shakily got to his feet and climbed out of the bathtub.  He wrinkled his nose at the mess he’d made, and turned the water on to wash it out before he took a shower.  Ray stood up to give Ryan privacy or whatever while he got cleaned up, but Ryan reached out a hand for him.

 

“Hey,” Ryan said softly.  “Are you mad at me?”

 

“No,” Ray shook his head.  He reached a hand up to Ryan’s face, and pulled him down to meet for a kiss.  Ryan pulled away with a huge smile like a teenager who just found out their crush liked them back.  “You’re a dork but I love you,” Ray told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan Haywood, cheese plate connoisseur. 
> 
> Anyway so i accidentally bingewatched all 200+ episodes of the slow mo guys so... We got Dan the Man coming next chapter... for Christmas!


End file.
